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Chapter Text

Green.

Rhaenyra sipped on her wine, staring at the flames encased in the fireplace. Alicent had worn green, and made a public display of it. It was humiliating, having to rise out of her seat and bow to the girl that had just made a declaration of war.

Laenor emerged from the privy, his nose no longer leaking blood. "Are you alright?"

Setting all thoughts of the queen to the side, Rhaenyra set her wine on the table. "I am fine. The better question is, are you alright?"

He shook his head slowly.

"I'll murder Cole for this," she bit out, pulling her silken robe tighter to her chest. "Have him burned, gelded, anything."

Laenor seated himself at the edge of the massive canopied bed. Outside, a scuffle of footsteps indicated that they had listeners, all to make sure that the marriage act had been done. "It makes no difference," he said sadly. "He is still dead."

Rhaenyra took the spot next to him. "And we will see to it that justice is served."

Her new husband smiled weakly. "You have a fiery vengeance, Nyra."

"Ser Crispin ought to fear my wrath."

They shared a weak chuckle. 

Laenor licked his lips, searching for the words. "I know...I know the Realm expects heirs, and I will try my best to perform my duty-"

Rhaenyra held up a hand. "We needn't do it now, Laenor. You have suffered tonight, and I will not make you endure even more."

"It is not suffering to perform the marital act."

"Then we can fake it."

He flopped back onto the bed with a grunt. "I always imagined my wedding night differently."

Rhaenyra laid down beside him. "How so?"

Laenor closed his eyes and huffed a laugh. "Well, first, I didn't imagine it being with you."

"You wound me."

"I meant no offense, of course. To be quite frank, I expected it to be with Joffrey. We planned to run away together."

Such news surprised her. "Really? I never pegged the Knight of Kisses as the type for sailing."

Laenor threw an arm over his head. "Oh, he wasn't. Grew green at the first rocking of the ship. But he said he would do it, for me."

"Laenor-"

He removed his hand from his head and took hers. "Do not feel sorry, Nyra. Cole pleaded his case, Joffrey tried to blackmail him with false rumors."

Rhaenyra had a bad feeling in her gut. Cole had said something along the lines of those words when Alicent begged forgiveness from the king. "Rumors..."

"He did not say. Vile rumors about his honor as a Kingsguard."

Fuck Cole. Damn him to hell.

"It is over now," Laenor shrugged. "Joffrey would not wish us to dwell on it."

It saddened her to see him this way. She had always been fond of her cousin, fonder so of Laena, and it hurt. "We do not need to consummate the marriage tonight, Laenor. Next month, two months, even a year. We will be fine."

"You are the heir," he argued, sitting up. "And the Hand has made his claims against you, if my father is to be believed. Wants to put Prince Aegon on the throne. I swore I would do my duty, Rhaenyra, and I will stand by that."

Rhaenyra sighed. "You are an honorable man, Laenor. Though how do you expect to find pleasure with me, a woman?"

"I'll find a way."

"Will you?"

He bit his lip. "There was a man, a knight of my father's household. Ser Qarl Correy. I've seen the way he eyes me. Perhaps..."

She could see what he was getting at. "If it makes you comfortable, Laenor, then you have my blessing."

"You are to good for me, Nyra."

"On the contrary, husband."

Laenor released a breath. "Husband. That will take some time to get used to."

Rhaenyra took his hand. "Shall I summon Ser Qarl?"

"No, it ought to come from me."

He rose. The sounds of footsteps outside had receded. "I'll be discreet."

Rhaenyra tried to smile confidently at him. "I'll be waiting."

Her husband donned his cloak and slipped outside, leaving the princess in silence, with nothing but a crackling fire to fill it.

Chapter Text

Laenor watched his new wife sleep, still reeling from the night before. Qarl had agreed, and had followed him to their chambers, where Rhaenyra was still waiting. What happened next, Laenor couldn't recall. A lot of wine, he was certain.

Rhaenyra stirred in her sleep and cracked an eye open. "Morning already?" she complained.

"I'm sorry to disappoint."

She rubbed her eyelids furiously. "I pray the kitchens are stocked with some good remedies for such grievances." She sat up, then looked around the room in confusion. "Where is Qarl?"

Laenor rose from the bed and slipped on a robe. "He departed earlier this morning."

"With sealed lips, I am sure."

"Quiet as a mouse."

Rhaenyra retrieved her dressing gown from the floor and slid it on. Her silver hair hung down her back in knots. "I am off to bathe. Your chambers are next door." She gestured to the door next to the dresser. 

Laenor complied, though he stopped to say, "And what shall we do about Ser Cole and the queen." His wife's taste for vengeance had rubbed off.

She smirked. "We will show them what happens to those who try to tame the dragon."

He liked that plan.

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Rhaenyra and Laenor strode down the halls of the Red Keep arm in arm. Laenor clad in a handsome doublet of black, Rhaenyra in a red gown that showed generous cleavage, and had an open back that would send the High Septon into an early grave. Servants stared as they passed, and courtiers whispered. Quite a pair, they admitted in hushed voices, her beautiful, him dashing.

She hoped Alicent would choke on her surprise. 

They entered the throne room, already bustling with court activity. Viserys, high on the Iron Throne, was the first to notice them. "Princess Rhaenyra!" he boomed gleefully, "And Ser Laenor!"

The court all turned. Alicent, seated on a little throne at the base of the dais, gaped. Her gown was green, just like it had been the night before. Clearly, she was trying to start a trend.

Rhaenyra and Laenor glided past the lords and ladies and each bowed at the base of the throne. Viserys descended, and clasped his daughter's hands in his own. "I trust your night was pleasant?"

"As pleasant as ones wedding night can get," she said with a wink.

The court all chuckled. 

Alicent found a chance to weasel her way towards the family. "Congratulations, stepdaughter," she said with a false smile. "This truly is a blessed day."

Blessed for me, you dry cow, "Thank you, stepmother. Your blessings warm my heart."

The queen's jaw clenched. 

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra was with child.

Alicent gnashed her teeth together as she paced. "How?"

Ser Criston, her new shield, ran a hand through his hair. "I do not know, your grace."

"My father put Laenor Velaryon forward as a suitor in hopes that his...tastes would prevent him and the princess from conceiving an heir."

Cole frowned deeply. "I see."

Alicent bit down hard on her lip. "You don't think the child could be fathered by another? After trying with Ser Laenor, to no avail, one would think she would have to look elsewhere."

"The thought had crossed my mind. If that were the case, then Prince Aegon's chances at being named heir have increased."

Good. Alicent longed to see the little harlot cast down from glory. "Then we must hope for the best."

"Yes, your grace." The knight bowed.

Alicent went to touch her own belly. She'd discovered her pregnancy shortly after Helaena's first nameday. Hopefully, it would be a boy.

Another child to tip the scalses in their favor.

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Rhaenyra's brows flicked up as Deana revealed the conversation she'd just overheard from the queen and the Hand. "They think me so bold as to have a child with another man?" Deana had been serving Mysaria for a time, and had only come into the princess's own service after she sent the White Wyrm a very detailed letter that guaranteed Lady Misery funding and protection for her little business.

From the bed, Laenor snorted. "It seems her royal dryness is green with envy at the prospect of you trifling with not one, but two men."

Rhaenyra shot him an incredulous look, then turned back to the spy. "Thank you, Deana. How fares your daughter?"

Deana glowed with pride. "Dyana is but a girl of one, princess, but she fares well."

"That is good to hear."

Rhaenyra touched her own belly. She and Laenor had been married for a moon's turn, and already she had conceived. Laenor had, though he would never admit it, passed out when she'd told him.

Deana left, leaving the happy couple alone. Laenor rose from the bed, going over to kiss his wife's hand. It was a friendly gesture, one of respect. They loved each other, just not in the way a man could love a woman romantically. "I hope it is a girl," he declared.

"A shame, for I predict a boy."

He raised a brow. "One that takes after me in looks, I should hope."

Rhaenyra gaped at him. "Laenor Velaryon!"

"A jest!" he pleaded as a bunch of grapes flew at his head.

"You know I make up the beauty portion of our relationship," she declared.

He looked offended. "I take offense to that statement, Nyra."

She snorted and plucked an olive from the bowl of figs on the table. "We need to think of names, Laenor."

"Easy. Corlys for a boy, Corletta for a girl."

Rhaenyra tossed her olive at him, which he caught easily. "No, Laenor. They must be Valyrian names, for the sake of my father." She leaned against the table. "I was thinking Aemon for a boy, and Rhaenys for a girl, after your lady mother."

"That is generous of you, Rhaenyra."

She smiled at him. "I admire the princess, so it is not entirely for you. Though if it is twin girls, they shall be Aemma and Rhaenys."

"And twin boys?"

"Rhaegar and Rhaegon."

Now it was his turn to shoot her a look.

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In the months that followed, King Viserys planned out great tourneys in honor of the upcoming babe.

"You'd think I were getting married again," Rhaenyra grumbled one night as she and Laenor sat by the fire. They slept in their respective chambers, but still met up in the evenings to discuss the day's events, and how to tick off the queen or Ser Criston. They made a game of it. Rhaenyra was in the lead, with an eye twitch from Alicent and a clenched jaw from Cole. Laenor was lagging with merely an eye roll from her grace.

Laenor handed her the plate of lemon cakes he'd snagged from the kitchens. She craved lemon cakes now, more so than ever. "The heir is set to give birth to her own heir. Who isn't celebrating?"

"Her Royal Bitchiness and the plague that calls himself a knight," she returned tartly. The pregnancy had made her prone to outbursts, and poor Laenor usually got the brunt of it.

But he couldn't disagree with her now. "Ah, yes. And how shall we displease her grace on the morrow?"

She leaned back in her seat, a hand stroking her very swollen belly. Alicent was due to pop that very month, with Rhaenyra not that far behind. "I have no desire to scheme tonight, husband. Quite frankly, I am exhaustes."

"I'll help you into bed-"

"No, thank you. I'll manage,"

She could hear Laenor snickering behind her as she waddled to the bed.

Rhaenyra gave him a very unladylike gesture in return.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra gave another push, the midwives urging her on. At her side, Laenor turned an incredible shade of green.

"If you puke on this bed!" Rhaenyra warned, sweat dripping down her brow.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said back, gagging a little.

The midwife at the other end of the bed gave a little squeal of delight. "One more, princess. I can see the head."

"Thank the fucking gods!" Rhaenyra panted.

Grand Maester Mellos frowned from the corner of the room. He had been permitted only to observe. Rhaenyra did not trust the maesters after what had happened with her dear mother.

She pushed, as the midwife instructed, and a healthy cry soon filled the air. "A boy, princess!" 

Rhaenyra collapsed against the pillows as Laenor collected his new son and presented him to her. She gathered the bundle in her arms, sobbing. Her sweet son had her paler complexion, but his hair was pure silver, like Laenor's, whereas Rhaenyra's was blonder. "He's perfect," she declared, kissing her son's forehead. "Aemon."

Laenor nodded in agreement. "A name fit for a king."

The midwives cooed over the prince, and even Mellos found himself won over by the babe. "He looks quite like your grandsire," the Grand Maester declared.

"Thank you, maester," Rhaenyra smiled. "And send the High Septon our best wishes, I hear he has been ill for a time."

Her pretty words warmed the man, who had long been a crony of Otto Hightower.

She delighted in her son for all but two minutes before a maid came rushing in. "She wants to see him, princess," the young girl gasped.

Rhaenyra's heart sunk. "Who?"

"The queen."

Laenor swore under his breath. "She cannot mean-"

"Oh, she does," Rhaenyra said darkly. Then, she noticed the a crowd had gathered outside her chambers, headed by Corlys Velaryon. She smirked at her husband, who had noticed the same thing. "What say you, Laenor? Shall we do as her grace bids?"

He gave her a cheeky smile. "If it pleases you, princess." Laenor helped her cross, though they had to momentarily pause for the afterbirth. 

"Why does it all fucking hurt?" she hissed through the pain.

Laenor shrugged. "Women are much stronger than men, if I do say so myself. Bodily and mentally."

"Your praise is welcomed, husband," she panted after the pain had subsided.

The crowd was very confused when the two appeared. Lord Corlys was there in an instant, a hand on the princess's arms, steadying her. "What is the meaning of this? You should be resting, princess."

Rhaenyra said loudly, "Her grace insists I present myself as well as the babe to her."

Cries of outrage rang out through the hall.

"This cannot be!" Beesbury declared.

"Her grace overreaches herself!" Baratheon, Laenor's great-uncle, said boldy.

Corlys gaped at them. "Her grace toes a dangerous line. I myself shall speak with her."

Baratheon and Tyrell stepped forward. They, along with their houses, were in attendance for the tourney that was to take place the week after. "I will go with Lord Corlys," Tyrell proclaimed.

"As will I," Baratheon agreed.

Laenor led Rhaenyra back to the bed, placing Aemon back into her arms. "You are quite the genius," he said.

She laughed, kissing Aemon's pale head. "I know."

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Alicent waited by the window. Rhaenyra would be there shortly, all sweaty and filthy, of course. The queen smirked at the thought of the princess dragging herself through the halls, with everyone watching her. She patted her flat stomach. Aemond had been born the moon before his new nephew, and was thriving in the nursery.

But it wasn't Rhaenyra Ser Cole announced. "Your grace," Lord Corlys said tightly, deigning to bow. He, along with Boremund Baratheon and Lyonel Tyrell, stood over two feet taller than she, and cut imposing figures.

"My lords," she said sweetly, "what brings you to my chambers?"

"We understand that you have summoned the princess to your chambers. Unfortunately, Princess Rhaenyra is still recovering from the birth, and sends her regrets."

Like hell she does. "Very well. I shall have to go visit the babe myself."

That she did, with Viserys at her side. Her husband was gleeful, thrilled at the prospect of having a grandchild. It was sickening. But when she got there, she could feel the blatant glares sent her way. Many of the people gathered were sneering at her, or shooting her rather dirty looks. 

What had the princess said?

No matter. When this babe was revealed to be a bastard, Rhaenyra's loyal supporters would turn on her, the spoiled goods. No one would support her then.

The king and queen entered the chambers to find the princess fawning over a little bundle. Laenor chatted with Lord Strong, the Hand, by the fire. The men rose, but Rhaenyra stayed put.

"Father," she smiled, and held out her hand. "Come meet him."

Viserys stepped forward tentatively. His expression melted, however, when he beheld the babe. "He is perfect, my dear. What is his name?"

"Aemon. After mother."

It felt like a slap in the face. Aemon. Aemma. "A good choice, princess."

Rhaenyra looked to the queen, and her smile dropped. "You honor me, your grace."

Alicent took the chance to slide forward, to get a better look at the princeling. Indeed, the boy had Rhaenyra's pallor, but Ser Laenor's hair. "May I?" she asked.

The princess swallowed her pride and handed the babe over to her enemy. Alicent watched the little boy as he watched her. Her grievance was not with him, so she would hold no grudge.

But Aemon Velaryon could not be king.

Chapter Text

Laenor watched Prince Aegon toddle about the garden, his big sister hot on his heels.

"Aegon," Rhaenyra called out, "you mustn't wander to far."

"Pway!" the little prince insisted stubbornly.

Laenor had to chuckle as the two faced-off. Aemon nestled further into his blanket, closer to his father. Laenor delighted in his son, with his silver hair and small feet. His son. He'd never expected children, though he knew it was his duty as the heir to Driftmark. Joffrey had adored little children, and they to him in turn. 

King Viserys, followed by an entourage of lords and courtiers, appeared suddenly. In celebration of Aemon's, as well as Prince Aemond's, birth. Aemon and Aemond. Yikes, that would take some getting used to.

The queen also showed up with her loyal dog, Criston Cole. Both looked smug, the queen looking regal in a green and gold gown. Her snooty attitude disappeared when Rhaenyra came out from behind the rosebushes with little Aegon holding her hand. The court all cooed at the sight, but Alicent clasped her hands together tightly, and Cole clenched his jaw. Many noblemen and women kept a wide berth from the Hightower queen. Word of her demanding to see the princess mere minutes after birth had spread, and now Alicent Hightower's supporters had dwindled, though there were still a few who stood loyally by her side, mainly Hightower cousins of hers.

"Good morrow, father," Rhaenyra chirped, plucking Aemon from Laenor's arms, with only minimal protest from her husband. She showed the pale princeling off to the king, who smiled.

"And a good morrow to you, my dear girl, as well as my mighty grandson."

Rhaenyra crouched so that Aegon could peer at his little nephew. "What do you think, Aegon?"

Aegon thought about it. "He's got no arms."

Everyone laughed. Rhaenyra touched her brother's face gently. "He has arms, valonquar, they're just hidden in his blanket."

But he didn't look convinced.

As the garden party kicked off, many a lord and lady came to offer their best wishes to the couple. Though Laenor noticed that few of Queen Alicent's supporters tried to get a closer look at the boy, to see if he truly bore any resemblance to his supposed father. They all left disappointed. 

On the other hand, Laenor's father was gleeful. "A grandson for me to spoil incessantly!" he declared. 

Rhaenyra let Princess Rhaenys hold Aemon. She took the little babe gently, allowing him to play with her finger. "He looks the image of his mother."

"Thank you, princess."

Laenor put on a show of mock affront. "Why, mother, I am offended."

His mother shot him a look. "He has your hair, Laenor. And your nose."

That satiated him.

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Alicent was two seconds away from crushing her goblet in her hand. Watching Viserys fawn over his grandson while her own son waited with his wetnurse was insulting.

Princess Rhaenyra, the proud mother, approached. Alicent noted the way eyes followed her, to see what she would do. Rhaenyra merely curtsied. "It is good to see you, your grace. I long to see my new half-brother." The babe in her arms made a cooing sound, and Rhaenyra passed him off to his father, dutiful at her side. It was all Alicent could do not to lunge in front of the princess as she gathered Aemond in her arms. "Oh, your grace, he's adorable."

The court all sighed at the princess's open affections for her brother. Alicent smiled tightly. "Thank you, princess."

"He looks just like his mother. A handsome prince."

That was enough. Alicent breezed forward and plucked Aemond from his sister's arms. "I believe it is the prince's feeding time," she said quickly, and handed her son off to his wetnurse.

Rhaenyra waved as the wetnurse departed before taking her own sin back into her arms. There was no nursemaid in sight. Did the princess truly hold her son day and night? "Aemon and Aegon are sure to be fast friends, I hope."

As if on cue, Aegon burst forward. "Nywa!" he cried out, "I wanna pway wif Aemy!"

Alicent raised a brow. "Aemy?"

Rhaenyra chuckled, but lowered herself until she was face to face with her brother. "Aemy is Aegon's nickname for Aemon."

"Ah."

"Quite adorable, if I say so myself."

The princess once again showed her son off to his uncle, even allowing him to hold the bundle, with a little help from Ser Laenor. They looked like a family, Alicent realized jealously. She looked to Cole, who also watched the scene with envy. The princess had taken his honor, yet here she was, flaunting her heir and husband to court.

Alicent had never hated someone more.

Chapter Text

A tourney was being held in honor of Rhaenyra being with child again.

The princess smiled to herself as the maids dressed her. Aemon, seated on the bed with his little legs dangling off the side, looked handsome in the blues of his father's house. "Mama," he started, "you look so pretty."

Rhaenyra turned to her two-year-old son and smiled. "Thank you, issa jorrāelagon."

"Issa jorrāelagon," Aemon repeated, feeling the words on his tongue. He had been learning High Valyrian since his first nameday, and had revealed a knack for languages.

Laenor entered then, clad in a darker shade of blue. "Are we ready?" he asked, fixing his leathered vest in the mirror.

Rhaenyra watched her maids fuss over the final details of the gown before stepping back. "I believe we are."

She took Laenor's offered arm, and in turn Aemon took her hand in his.

Ser Qarl was waiting for them outside the chamber, along with Ser Harold, who would be escorting them to the royal box. Rhaenyra could see the sly glances Laenor and Qarl shared. The knight had visited their chambers over two moons ago, after Rhaenyra had confessed her desire for another child.

The king and queen were already in the royal box when the family arrived, and Rhaenyra had the pleasure of seeing Alicent's eyes nearly bulge out of her head as she beheld the princess's attire.

Black as sin.

Twin capes trailed down behind her to the floor, and the gown itself was held together at the waist by a large belt in the shape of dragon scales. A slit where her left leg was made it much easier to walk, and the low neckline showed off her generous decolletage. 

Alicent, in a modest green gown, simply could not compare. Her father had been invited back from Oldtown for the festivities, as well as to visit his grandchildren. He too did not look pleased at the princess's display.

"Hello, grandpa!" Aemon waved furiously. 

Viserys chuckled and patted the boy on the head. "Hello to you as well, Aemon."

"Where is Aegon?"

A pale head poked up from its seat at the front of the box. "Over here!"

Aemon trotted over to his uncle's seat. "Baela!" he said delightedly as another silver head appeared.

Rhaenyra and Laenor took their seats next to Laena Velaryon and her daughter, Baela. Laena had wed Daemon not long after Rhaenyra's own wedding. Already, they had their own little girl, who was the same age as Aemon. 

"Is my uncle competing?" Rhaenyra inquired to Laena.

Her cousin nodded. "In the colors of House Targaryen. He is set to fight Ser Gwayne Hightower and Ser Criston Cole."

"A coincidence, I am sure."

"Of course."

The two women shared a knowing look.

Daemon trotted on to the field, as proud as ever. He basked in the audiences cheers before facing his opponent. Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, the queen's brother. Gwayne urged his horse towards the royal box and bowed his head. "I would fare much better in this competition if I had the favor if my sister, her grace the queen."

Typical. 

Alicent strutted forward and tossed her favor into her brother's lance. "I wish you luck, brother."

Gwayne marched off.

Daemon made his way to the box, a mischievous grin on his face. "Lady Baela, may I have the honor of jousting with your favor?"

His daughter giggled and slid out of her seat, clutching a blue and red garland in her hand. "Here you go, kepa!"

Rhaenyra could have sworn the entire stadium let out a collective sigh. Nothing more warming to the heart than seeing the Rogue Prince ask for the favor of his beloved daughter.

Daemon easily unhorsed Ser Gwayne, who remained uninjured. The competition progressed until it got to Ser Cole and Prince Daemon. Ser Cole asked for the favor of Princess Helaena, who complied.

"I would ask for the favor of my beloved niece," Daemon declared, "and the heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra."

Rhaenyra tried not to gape. She looked to Laena for permission, and her cousin nodded with a smile. She didn't need Daemon asking her favor for him to prove his love for her. He had killed her betrothed in a duel just to marry her.

"I wish you good fortune, uncle," she said, tossing her garland onto his lance.

"Thank you, princess," Daemon bowed his head.

Both men took their places at opposite ends. Cole, in the white cloak of the Kingsguard, was smirking under his helm. Kill him, Rhaenyra pleaded with her uncle mind to mind. Kill him for me, for Laenor, but just kill him.

They took off. 

A little hand slipped into her own, and she looked to see Aemon standing in front of her, clasping her fingers. "Don't be scared, mama," he whispered.

There was a crash, and Rhaenyra stood, still holding Aemon's hand.

Cole had fallen onto the dirt, his legs bent at an awkward angle. Did Daemon do it? Did he kill the insufferable Cole?

But the man rose, slowly, blood pouring out of his nose.

Daemon, still horsed, smirked. 

He had won.

Chapter Text

Aemon rolled around in the grass, giggling as his puppy, Meraxes, chased after him.

Rhaenyra watched from under the weirwood tree, a book in her lap. Laenor had returned to Driftmark for a quick visit to his mother, leaving her with Aemon and a growing babe in her belly. A belly that was very, very big.

"Princess?" a familiar voice asked, and Rhaenyra turned to see Ser Harwin Strong approaching. He had recently taken up the position as her sworn shield after the departure of Cole. 

"Hello, Ser Harwin," she greeted. "Come sit."

Awkwardly, he plopped down onto the ground next to her. "How have you been since the wedding?" he asked. "I know the loss of Ser Joffrey had an effect on Ser Laenor."

Rhaenyra nodded. "It still grieves him, but he tries, for our sakes."

The conversation thinned out after that.

Harwin cleared his throat. "What book are you reading?"

She looked down. "The History of Old Valyria, by Archmaester Vaegon."

"Vaegon? As in...."

"My great-uncle? Indeed. He still dwells in the Citadel, a sour old man."

Harwin chuckled. "One would think, after being packed off like a common servant."

Rhaenyra shook her head. "Oh, no, he wanted to go. My grandsire oft said that being sent off to the Citadel had been the only joy of Vaegon's life."

"Then I have no room to debate."

"Why, ser, you never did."

They shared a smile. 

Aemon came running up to his mother, Meraxes right behind. "Mama! I picked flowers for you!" he told her. He held out his pudgy little fist and presented her with a bouquet of red wildflowers.

Rhaenyra kissed his head. "Thank you, Aemon. They're beautiful."

Aemon smiled and raced off to Gods knew where.

Harwin watched the boy go. "He's a jolly little fellow."

"Indeed. I hear it all the time that he takes after my father."

"Not a bad likeness to have."

"No, I suppose not. Though I wish he'd taken after Laenor in the sailing department." Poor Aemon grew greensick after merely stepping on a boat. "At least he is fearless in the air."

The knight leaned back against his elbows. "Has Prince Aemon claimed a dragon?"

Rhaenyra set the book aside. "Not yet, though he speaks incessantly of Vermithor. I believe a visit to Dragonstone is needed."

Harwin whistled in awe. "The Bronze Fury. Is it true he is almost as large as Vhagar?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Quite true. And, in my opinion, a little bit prettier. But don't tell the Lady Laena I said that."

He pretended to lock his lips together. "You have my word, princess."

She smiled at the man.

In this light, he was very handsome.

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Rhaenyra gave birth to her second son a moon after her talk with Ser Harwin. Another pale princeling, with her hair this time, but with Laenor's eyes. 

"What shall we name him?" Laenor asked as he rocked his son back and forth.

She sat back against the pillows. "What about Baelon?"

"After your grandsire?"

"Yes. My father misses him terribly, as do I. He passed when I was but a girl of five."

Laenor smiled at his son. "Baelon it is. The future Lord of the Tides."

"Yes, well, for now he is just Prince Baelon."

"Yes, yes, I know."

The only one not pleased with the birth of another son was Queen Alicent. Rhaenyra could feel the dirty looks the queen sent her way, as well as the looks she recieved from House Hightower.

The final blow came one afternoon, just after Rhaenyra had laid Baelon down for a nap. Laenor had burst into the room, his eyes alight with fury. "That bitch," he spat, "is running around spreading rumors about our sons."

Rhaenyra frowned. "What rumors?"

"Her little minion, Larys, is whispering that they are....bastards."

Rhaenyra stormed out of the room. "Watch the babe," she hissed to Laenor.

The queen's chambers were guarded by none other than Ser Cole, who had-unfortunately-recovered from his fall at the tourney. "The queen is busy," the knight said rather rudely.

Rhaenyra got right into his face. "I refused to run away with you so now you go play lapdog for someone else?"

The knight gaped at her. "I-I-"

"You thought you had done so well, didn't you? That your cock was enough to convince me to leave everything behind? You are a conceited arse, Criston Cole." She trudged past him, slamming the door behind her.

Alicent nearly dropped her tea as she beheld the princess. "R-Rhaenyra."

"Out," Rhaenyra ordered the servants. She gave Deana a look as the spy scurried out.

The gossip would spread shortly.

"What is the meaning of this?" Alicent demanded.

Rhaenyra had to laugh. "Do not play the fool, your grace. Be truthful with me, just this once. Why do you hate me?"

The queen opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Come now, your grace, the dying fish look does not look flattering on you."

That spurned her into action. "You lied to me and swore on your mother's memory."

"Daemon never touched me. I spoke nothing but the truth."

"Yet you failed to mention your night with Cole."

"Oh, I am so sorry that I had one night of pleasure while you were stuck fucking my father!" Rhaenyra practically screamed. "Was it worth it, Alicent?"

That took her down a peg. "Was what worth it?"

"Was being my father's whore worth it?"

For the first time since becoming queen, Rhaenyra saw fear in the queen's eyes. "I did no such thing."

Rhaenyra scoffed. "Really? I think it is very impressive that you were already a month with child at the time of your marriage."

All the color drained from Alicent's face. "You dare-"

"Yes, I dare. You have the sheer nerve to declare my son's bastards, all while having one of your own. Aegon was conceived before marriage, something my father does not know. You missed your course the month of your wedding, and then you missed it again and again."

"If you say a word-"

Rhaenyra stepped back. "So it is true?" she gasped. "Your precious boy, the child you so desperately wish to take my place...is a bastard?"

The queen clenched her jaw. "If you so much as speak a word on this I will have your tongue out."

A direct threat against the heir. Deana would be having a field day with this.

Rhaenyra smirked. "Oh, I won't say a thing, Alicent Hightower. But if you so much as utter another bad thing about my children, you will be off to the Silent Sisters before your sweet son can get a taste of the Iron Throne."

She turned sharply, and left without curtsying. 

Chapter Text

"An outrage!" Corlys Velaryon said furiously. "To threaten the heir to the Iron Throne?"

Rhaenyra kept her lips pressed firmly together. Her father had granted her permission to sit in on the Small Council meeting, seeing as the matter of the day happened to revolve around her and the queen. The queen who was noticeably absent.

Viserys seemed angry himself, but he had to play the part of the Peaceful King. "Her grace was out of line, Lord Corlys, and rest assured I shall deal with the matter."

"Your grace," Lord Strong, the Hand, cut in, "what her grace said warrants an arrest for treason." As the former Master-of-Laws, Lord Lyonel would be an expert on such matters.

Rhaenyra set her ball onto the table. "If I may, your grace. The queen was out of line, I myself admit it, but would it be wise to punish her and make an enemy of House Hightower, who in turn has the full support of the Faith?"

Viserys stroked his beard as Lord Beesbury nodded. "The princess is right. The Faith has many supporters, your grace, and going to war with House Hightower would be a costly expedition."

Rhaenyra smirked to herself. Leave Alicent in the castle, unpunished, and the Realm would begin to despise her. Of course, the kind princess who so generously spoke in defense of her evil stepmother would be revered, leaving no opportunity for Alicent to put Aegon on the throne when the time came.

"The queen will make a public apology to the princess," Viserys declared, "as well as a confession of sin to her septa, to appease the Faith."

The princess took her father's hand. "If I may, father. I believe that the Princes Aegon and Aemond, as well as the Princess Helaena, would do well as my wards. With the queen...indisposed, it would grant me an opportunity to spend more time with my siblings."

Viserys thought about it for a moment before nodding. "You are right, my dear. Should you and Ser Laenor return to Dragonstone, the children shall go with you."

"Thank you, father."

----------------------------------------------

Alicent clenched her jaw as her husband stood before her. Her sweet children would be sent off to live with....that wretch!

"The princess Rhaenyra actually spoke kindly of you," Viserys admitted. "She has forgiven you for your words, and offers her apologies for sending you into such a state."

Of course she did. "Then the princess has my gratitude," she got out through gritted teeth.

The king poured a glass of wine for himself and drank. "Our children will do well with their sister, my dear. Aegon already adores her, and Helaena loves spending time with Aemon. Perhaps a betrothal is in the works."

Never. Alicent would rather die than marry her precious daughter off to the son of a whore.

"As you will it, my king."

Viserys sighed. "Please, Alicent, give me your thoughts on the matter. I am your king but I am also your husband."

Unfortunately. "I spoke out of turn, and for that I apologize."

He saw through the false words. "Very well. I bid you good night, wife."

Alicent started. Wife. He'd never called her that before. It had always been 'my dear,' or simply Alicent. Never 'wife'.

That was when she realized her only power at court was gone.

Her husband did not love her anymore.

Chapter Text

"Dorne?" Laenor nearly choked on his porriage. 

Rhaenyra hoisted the three-year-old Baelon onto her lap, running her fingers through his pale curls. "Father insists on it, says it gives us a chance to bring Dorne into the Realm officially."

"I thought they were already," Laenor admits.

She shakes her head. "According to the Dornish, no. They still view themselves as separate, which I respect."

Laenor leaned back in his seat. "Huh. I'm not very good at my history then."

"Don't lose any sleep over it," Rhaenyra jested, kissing Baelon's head. "The Dornish won't know."

"So what's the dress code?"

Rhaenyra mulled the thought over. "If you asked Prince Qoren, he would say nothing at all."

---------------------------------------

Dorne was hot.

Rhaenyra stood at the prow of the ship, her thin skirt whipping around her ankles. The bodice of her gown was deep blue, like the waves below, which slowly bled out into a puch lighter shade. It fanned out behind her, and a slit in the middle of the outer skirts revealed a midnight underskirt. Her gold belt dripped chains, and her necklace glittered with pearls.

"If I may, princess," Ser Harwin started casually, resting his arms against the railings, "you look as radiant as the Maiden herself."

Rhaenyra felt a blush creeping up her neck. In a green tunic with his curls pulled back, Harwin was undeniably handsome. "Thank you, Ser. Though only her grace may outdo the Maiden."

A bold-faced lie. Alicent looked as green as the gown she wore, and was hurling her guts up off the side of the boat every five minutes.

Harwin chuckled, a deep sound that made Rhaenyra...

Gods, you fool, she nearly slapped herself. Get a grip.

"Her grace is lovely," the knight admitted, "but I believe you to be the fairest rose in all the Realm, princess."

There was something behind his eyes that Rhaenyra couldn't place. Longing? "You honor me, Ser Harwin. And where is your lord father?"

Harwin turned to look over his shoulder. "Most likely helping his grace to the privy. It seems your dear father does not bode well on ships."

Now it was Rhaenyra's turn to laugh. "That has long been his greatest shame, I'm afraid."

"And you?" He raised a brow. "How do you fare on uncertain seas?"

She returned the look, and found herself inching closer to her knight. "Quite well, I believe. You?"

"Extraordinarily, princess."

Laenor, damn him, chose that moment to step in. "Baelon is looking for you," he informed her. "Says Meraxes has shit on his favorite shirt."

"Poor boy," Rhaenyra lamented. "Good day, Ser Harwin."

Harwin nodded. "You as well, princess."

As she and Laenor walked arm in arm through the ship, her husband leaned in. "You know, if it is ever your desire to take a lover of your own..."

She shot him a look. "And risk getting myself with child?"

"We have maester's, Rhaenyra."

"Imagine explaining that the heir to the throne needs Moon Tea for yet another heir?"

He cringed. "Well, when you put it like that."

But something inside her longed for someone to share her passions with. She and Laenor only shared a bed when duty demanded it, and with the help of Ser Qarl. She wanted someone that loved her, in a romantic way. Was Ser Harwin that person?

After helping Baelon with his doggy debacle, the family stood once again at the prow as Dorne loomed ahead. "Has Prince Qoren wed yet?" Laenor asked Rhaenyra.

"Yes, recently. A Lady Meria, I hear."

"No heirs as of yet?"

"None that I can recall."

The Prince greeted them with a warm smile. When Rhaenyra went to accept his hello, Qoren boldly kissed both of her cheeks, startling her, but sending Laenor into a fit of giggles. He was much more cordial with the queen, however, and merely kissed her hand. His wife, the Lady Meria, was a beauty, with dark curls and an olive complexion. 

As Qoren led them to the seat of Sunspear, Rhaenyra linked arms with his lady wife, and the two spoke of trivial things, with her husband jutting in to make a few bawdy jokes.

"A woman heir," Qoren remarked. "I did not think the West to be so...progressive."

"Nor did I," Rhaenyra admitted. "It was expected that my uncle Daemon be named heir after my mother's passing."

Meria nodded. "I am truly sorry for the loss of your mother."

"As am I," Qoren agreed. "I met Queen Aemma once, and even now I can see that you are the very best of her."

Rhaenyra smiled. "You honor me."

She turned to see Alicent turn her head away bitterly. She was green with envy. That, or she hadn't recovered from the seasickness. 

A magnificent feast was held in the great hall of Sunspear. The royal family was served figs and olives, pastries and meats. Aemon dug into the sweets furiously, while Baelon preferred the cakes. Aegon and Helaena, the only children of the queen permitted to attend, sipped their milk quietly.

When the dances began, Rhaenyra leaned in to Aemon. "Helaena looks sad. Why don't you go dance with her?"

Aemon bounced out of his seat and approached the shy princess. Alicent watched the two with a piercing gaze. Timidly, Helaena took Aemon's hand, and together they waddled onto the floor, doing an awkward rendition of a waltz.

Viserys took his daughter's hand. "My dear, have you ever considered betrothing Aemon to Helaena?"

Rhaenyra blinked at him. "I did not, to be honest. But it is not a bad idea."

The king smiled. "Then it shall be done. Aemon will be king, Helaena his queen."

Alicent, overhearing the words, nearly choked on her wine. "What?" she demanded of her husband.

Viserys sighed, as if her just speaking to him was irritating. "Aemon is to marry Helaena. The Princess Rhaenyra accepts, and I wholeheartedly agree to the match."

The queen stood, her chair grating against the ground. Without another word, she stormed off.

"It would have helped to at least discuss the matter with her," Rhaenyra admitted, sipping from her glass.

Viserys leaned back in his seat. "What good would it have done? It is an advantageous marriage, and would resolve many problems. But I fear her pride may have interfered, prohibiting her from agreeing."

"Her father's traits," Rhaenyra muttered as Aemon tried to dip Helaena, to no avail.

Little Baelon jumped from his seat. "I wanna dance!" he declared and raced over to where his uncle sat. Aegon, startled, did not protest as his nephew hauled him out of his seat and joined Aemon and Helaena on the floor.

Laenor stood. "Yes, let us dance." He held out a hand for Rhaenyra.

"Why, husband," she jested, for the sake of the watching court, "you flirt."

Catching her drift, he winked. Together, they spun about the floor, sometimes switching partners. Rhaenyra ended up with Qoren Martell for a round, and the playful Rogue hoisted her into the air and spun her around until she was dizzy.

His arms left her, and suddenly, two broad palms were steadying her. "Are you alright, princess?" the voice of Harwin Strong said.

Rhaenyra giggled. "I am quite alright, ser. Now, are you as splendid of a dancer as the ladies at court make you out to be?"

He gaped. "I-well-you ask of me at court?"

Damn his observing nature. "Perhaps."

Harwin smiled, and took her hand in his. He led her through a graceful glide around the room, her blue skirts whirling. 

"So you are a good dancer," she observed.

He shrugged. "I try not to pride myself on it."

"Well you should. You're marvelous."

She realized how it sounded the moment the words came out of her mouth. Her cheeks grew hot, and he smirked. "Would you like to go somewhere else, princess?" he asked innocently.

Rhaenyra felt her heart beating at a million miles an hour. "Indeed," she said in a husky voice. "My chambers. I'll be there shortly."

Harwin bowed and pressed a kiss to her hand. 

She found Laenor within two minutes. He was standing with Ser Qarl, both chuckling at something the latter had said. "Do not come to my chambers tonight," she ordered in a hushed voice. "I shall be preoccupied."

Laenor raised a brow. "Preoccupied?"

"With...a friend."

He caught onto her meeting and grinned wryly. "Then I wish you the best of luck, my dear."

She shot him an incredulous look and hurried out of the room.

Harwin was waiting for her, his over coat already discarded on the bed.

Rhaenyra locked the door behind her.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra twirled one of Harwin's curls around her finger. The knight still slept soundly, his arms wrapped around her. Gods, he was handsome. And broad. With muscles for days...

"For fuck's sake," she chided herself, dropping her head onto his bare chest. 

The force startled him awake. "Princess?" he snorted, jolting up in bed.

"It's fine," she giggled.

Harwin smiled at her, running a thumb across her cheek. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Rhaenyra tapped her chin. "About five times last night, if I recall."

"And I mean it."

He kissed her then, his other hand threading through her hair. "I hope Ser Laenor does not mind," he confessed against her lips.

Rhaenyra pulled back. "Now you think of that?" At his concerned look, she laughed. "Laenor does not mind. He has his own..." she searched for the word. "Lovers."

"Is that what I am?" he inquired.

"Do you want to be?"

Harwin nestled into her shoulder. "I am whatever you want me to be. The most fearsome lover a princess ever had."

"Which is saying something, considering I do not recall  princess ever taking a lover since Princess Saera."

He flicked her nose gently.

The door opened, and Rhaenyra's stomach dropped, expecting the queen or one of her lapdogs to enter. Instead, a very hungover Laenor stumbled into the room. "Nyra, have you seen-" he froze upon seeing them. Then, he smirked. "Care if I join?"

"Out!" Rhaenyra shouted, flinging a pillow at his head. Laenor scampered out of the room like he was being chased by a dragon.

Harwin was laughing his arse off. "The trials of marriage," he jested.

Rhaenyra glared at him. "Would you like to be next?"

"Not in the slightest, my love."

My love.

She liked the sound of that.

---------------------------------------

Alicent watched Rhaenyra and Laenor board the ship. Ser Harwin, Rhaenyra's sworn shield, stood only a few paces behind. A handsome man, she had to admit, and fearsome. Breakbones, the ladies whispered of him in the halls. His prowess and his looks made him a desire for many at court.

"Your grace?" Criston asked, stepping to her side.

"Have you seen the way he looks at her?" Alicent inquired.

Cole frowned. "Of whom do you speak of, your grace?"

"Ser Harwin. He watched Rhaenyra like she is the Mother herself."

The knight clenched his jaw. "I'm afraid many have been lured into the princess's trap, your grace."

She raised a brow at him. "Such as yourself?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Alicent turned to watch as the princess took up position at the prow, her two sons by her side. Ser Laenor disappeared below deck, and Ser Harwin went to stand at Prince Aemon's side. 

He said something, and Rhaenyra laughed.

"You don't suppose the princess has taken it upon herself to find a...friend?"

Criston glared at the princess's back, catching onto her meaning. "Who knows, Ser Laenor may be lacking in the marital bed."

"And if the king were to discover such an affair?"

"Then the scandal may prove enough for his grace to change the succession."

Alicent smirked. 

Time to play a game of cat and mouse.

Chapter Text

The maids began to set gold pieces into Alicent's auburn curls. The queen smiled at her reflection, smoothing down her green skirt. She looked radiant, no one would dare deny. "Deana," she said to one of the maids, "has the princess revealed her gown of choice tonight?"

Viserys was hosting a ball in honor of his fifteenth year as king, as well as the betrothal of his daughter to his grandson. Alicent hated the idea, having to choose whether or not to name Aegon king, or to let Helaena become queen. Perhaps she could get Aegon to annul the marriage and take Helaena to wife instead.

Deana bowed her head. "Nothing has been said, your grace."

Alicent pursed her lips. "And has the princess been receiving any... late night guests, recently?"

The maid look puzzled. "Forgive me, your grace, but I do not know what you mean."

"I mean, has Ser Harwin Strong been entering the princess's chambers at night?"

Deana seemed to choke on absolutely nothing. "No, your grace! She and Ser Laenor keep their nights to themselves."

Oh, I'm sure they do.

"Very well then. You all may leave."

Deana was the first out of the room.

--------------------------------------

"How could she know?" Laenor gaped at Deana, who was flushed from running.

Deana shook her head. "She doesn't know, she just suspects."

Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around herself. If Alicent found out, she would go right to the king. But Viserys did not trust her anymore. Would he believe her word over his daughter's?

"We must be more careful," Harwin said from the corner of the room. "The queen probably has my brother setting spies on us as we speak."

Rhaenyra ran a hand through her hair. "For now, it does not matter. She has nothing to go on, and whatever she finds will be pointless. My father no longer holds the same love he once felt for her, and if she were to tell him, the chances that he would buy her story are slim."

Harwin nodded. "You are right, princess. The queen seems to have fallen out of the king's good graces."

"Thank the Gods for that," Laenor muttered.

Rhaenyra snorted. "Alright boys, out. I need to dress for the ball."

Laenor sketched a bow. "As you command, your grace."

"Out," she repeated sternly.

Her maids were summoned, and they quickly got to work. She was dressed in a shimmering black gown with gold paneling at the shoulders. The panels were carved to look like dragon scales, and the two twin capes that trailed down her back were the wings. In honor of her Velaryon husband, she donned pearls in her hair, and gold seahorse earrings. For her mother, a ring that bore the sigil of House Arryn. 

"You look the very picture of the Maiden, princess," the youngest maid, Elinda, gushed.

Harwin and Laenor were already waiting outside with the boys, who chased each other around the latter's legs. Aemon was the first to spot her, and he flung himself into her arms. "Mama, can we go to Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra raised a brow. "Why do you want to go to Dragonstone, Aemon?"

"I want to ride Vermithor!"

She chuckled and kissed his brow. "Perhaps we can make a visit at the end of the week."

If Aemon were to claim Vermithor...She shuddered internally at the thought of her son on the Bronze Fury. 

"Shall we?" Laenor asked, offering his arm. Rhaenyra took it, and the five of them made their way to the throne room.

------------------------------------

Alicent looked around at the party guests, trying to separate her allies from her enemies. House Hightower was present, as was her father, and they had all dressed in matching hues of green. They supported Aegon wholeheartedly. She looked to House Velaryon, dripping in pearls and cloth that screamed wealth. They were not her friends, but if she were to arrange a match between Lord Corlys's eldest granddaughter, the Lady Baela, and Aegon, they could prove a fruitful ally. But Daemon Targaryen would never allow it. Besides, the family was in Essos, the guests of some merchant from Yi-Ti.

She sighed, sipping from her goblet. Tonight, she would have another task to complete. Catching the princess and her knight.

The doors to the throne room opened, and the room froze.

"Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, and heir to the Iron Throne," Ser Harold announced as the glittering princess sashayed into the room. "And her loyal consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon. Their children, Prince Aemon Velaryon and Prince Baelon Velaryon."

Alicent clenched her goblet so tight that it began to crack. The family looked like true Targaryen royalty in their matching black attire. Alicent could see the pearls that shone in Rhaenyra's hair, and the seahorse earrings she donned. Her sons marched dutifully at her side, Baelon's curls bouncing with each step.

"Your grace," Rhaenyra curtsied at the dais. Alicent noticed Ser Harwin eyeing her suspiciously, almost with hatred. Well, if he was truly the princess's paramour, then he would have to hate her. It seemed she'd made an enemy of House Strong.

The princess and her family moved around the table, and Rhaenyra stopped in front of her. "You look lovely, stepmother," she smiled, and kissed both of Alicent's cheeks. She could hear the whispers that floated around as the princess took her seat.

How kind of the princess

A shame the queen looks so sour

She was only trying to be nice

What a bitter woman

Old hag

Alicent clenched her jaw. She glanced at the Hightower table, where her father seemed to be glaring at the other guests. It didn't matter. She was the mother of the future king, and one day they all would bow to her son.

Viserys stood. "It warms my heart to see you all here tonight. First, I would like to raise a toast to my grandson, Prince Aemon, and my daughter, the Princess Helaena, for their betrothal shall unite the House of the Dragon, and make this man a proud great-grandsire."

The crowd applauded, and there were a few whistles from House Velaryon. Alicent saw her father's eyes widen in fury. She had failed to mention the betrothal to him, something he would surely chastise her for.

"And I would also like to toast you, my loyal lords," Viserys continued, "most of whom have known me since I was but a new king of five-and-twenty. You all swore your oaths to my daughter, the Princess Rhaenyra, and will surely uphold those oaths when I am gone. To you, the Realm." He raised his cup, and thunderous applause made its way around the room.

Alicent couldn't deny it, Viserys had a way with the people.

The dancing commenced, and Rhaenyra quickly took to the floor with her husband. Aemon asked Helaena to dance, and Baelon once again pulled Aegon into the ring. A shame they had to get along so well. Aegon would surely protest the kingship, but as the firstborn son, it was his right and his duty.

After nearly an hour, Alicent scoured the floor but found no sign of the princess. Now was her chance. She rose and feigned a need for fresh air to her husband. Alicent slid through a hallway in the back of the room, so that she wouldn't have to move through the throng of people.

She found her way to the princess's chambers and knocked. Nothing. Alicent frowned but kept moving, making her way to Ser Harwin's rooms. No one. 

"Where are you," she grumbled to herself. 

Then she heard it. A giggle. It came from the courtyard, under the weirwood tree. From her viewpoint on the second floor, she could make out a short head of silver hair, and a black gown that whipped in the wind. 

"Got you," Alicent smirked.

The queen smoothed down her skirts and sashayed back into the throne room.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra pulled her thick blue coat around her as trunks were hauled out of the room. "Aemon, do you have Quicksilver?" she asked her eldest boy.

Aemon came running out of the nursery adjacent to her chambers, a golden pup in his arms. "Right here, mother." His beloved dog, Meraxes, had given birth to a fine litter of puppies, and Aemon had managed to swipe the smallest one and kept it as his own.

She smiled. "Good. Baelon?"

Her youngest toddled out behind his brother. "Mister Whiskers is in his kennel!" he said proudly.

Rhaenyra kissed both boys on the head. "Excellent. Now go find your father. I want to leave within the hour."

As the boys scampered out of the room, there was a knock on the door. Ser Harold and Ser Arryk entered. "Princess," the Lord Commander said, "his grace asks you to meet him in the Small Council room."

Rhaenyra frowned. "Whatever for?"

Ser Harold pulled a face. "He, er, didn't say, princess. But it was at the behest of the queen."

Oh, delightful. "Very well."

She could see the concerned look Harwin sent her way as she was escorted into the hall. He would be going to Dragonstone with Rhaenyra as her sworn shield.

The knights led her to the Small Council chamber, where Ser Cole was waiting. Rhaenyra swept past the arrogant fool and strode to the table. Alicent stood smugly by Viserys's side, with Lord Corlys Velaryon, Lord Beesbury, and the Grand Maester in attendance.

"Where is Ser Lyonel?" Rhaenyra asked.

Alicent raised her chin haughtily. "Lord Strong was asked to sit this meeting out, for fear of personal interest getting in the way."

"Personal interest?"

The queen looked to her husband. "Late last evening I departed the ball and went for a walk. Underneath the weirwood, I made an...alarming discovery."

Rhaenyra crossed her arms, her face revealing nothing. She and Harwin had been careful. There was no one around, and they weren't really doing anything, just talking. "Enlighten me, your grace," she asked sarcastically, "what discovery do you speak of?"

Alicent scoffed. "I implore you not to play the fool, princess. I discovered you and a certain knight of yours engaged in an act unbefitting that of a married woman."

Lord Corlys was outraged. "That is a bold lie, your grace!"

Viserys himself rose. "Alicent! To accuse the princess of such crimes!"

"They are no accusations, husband," Alicent said coldly. "I know what I saw."

Rhaenyra snorted out a laugh, and the room went silent. "Your grace overreaches herself. I am afraid that was not my sworn shield you saw, but my own husband, Ser Laenor."

"Ser Laenor is uninterested in those of the opposing sex."

"How dare you!" Corlys roared. 

Even Lord Beesbury was shocked. "Your grace, these are vile accusations, treasonous ones."

Rhaenyra nodded. "Lord Beesbury is right. And Ser Laenor is an honorable man, who has been in the company of none other than his wife." A lie, but she didn't really give a shit. "Not only do you question my honor as a wife, but you also put into question the validity of my being named heir."

Alicent stiffened. "I have no idea of what you speak of."

She raised a brow. "But do you? Ever since my sweet brother was born, you have only tried to advance him as the heir. And now, an opportunity falls into your lap, and you can't resist the temptation."

"I am the queen-"

"And I am the heir to the Iron Throne!" Rhaenyra slammed both hands onto the table. "You spew treason from your hateful lips and expect us to believe it?"

Viserys sighed. "Go to your chambers, Alicent. We will discuss this later."

The queen clenched her jaw so tight Rhaenyra thought one of her teeth would crack. But she merely swept out of the room with fury.

Lord Corlys fell into his seat. "You know, your grace, you wouldn't be the first king to set his wife aside."

Viserys waved the lord off. "I have many conflicts to deal with, Corlys. Going to war with House Hightower will not be added to that pile."

"I could burn them, you know," Rhaenyra offered.

The king chuckled. "How I wish it were that simple, my dear. Enjoy Dragonstone, and be safe."

She moved around the table to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, father."

Ser Cole was seething when she glided out of the room.

----------------------------------

"The queen is bold," Laenor declared as the two stepped into the Dragonpit. 

Rhaenyra nodded. "Hopefully, word of her treason reaches the ears of our supporters."

"With my father, it most certainly will."

Laenor mounted his own dragon, Seasmoke, while Rhaenyra bounced over to Syrax. "Rytsas, hāedar," she giggled as Syrax sniffed at her hair. "Ivestragī's jikagon syt nykeā sōvegon."

Harwin had left by ship with the boys, both of whom did not have dragons yet, nearly an hour earlier. Rhaenyra and Laenor were the only ones who could fly.

She urged her mount into the air, reveling in the freedom it gave her. Syrax banked left, giving Seasmoke time to catch up. Together, they soared through the air, going high into the clouds, then diving towards the sea. 

After a few minutes of searching, she located the ship that carried Harwin and her sons. Baelon was the first to spot her, and he jumped up and down with glee at the sight of his mother. Harwin looked up in awe and waved, while Aemon leaned over the railing to watch her fly past.

She kept at an even pace with them until Dragonstone loomed in the distance. Only then did she urge Syrax forward, so that she could meet her children at the docks.

"A pleasant flight," her husband remarked as the Dragonkeepers unsaddled their dragons.

Rhaenyra snorted. "Yes, just your everyday ride on a winged beast that breathes fire."

Laenor sent her an admonished look. "No need for sarcasm, my dear."

"Is Ser Qarl coming?"

He sighed. "Indeed he is. The poor man nearly pissed himself when I told him, though."

"He fears the dragons?"

"He fears the wrath of my lady wife."

It was her turn to send him a look as they strolled to the docks. "I like Ser Qarl. He did help in the creation of our children which makes things a tad awkward, but still. And I will have you know that I am a princess, so technically, you are my lady husband."

Laenor laughed, a booming sound. "Princess Rhaenyra and her Lady Husband Ser Laenor. It has a nice ring to it."

She punched his arm lightly.

Her children raced off the ship the moment it was docked. She gave Harwin a simple nod, noting all the eyes that may belong to Larys Strong.

"Are you ready?" she asked the boys, who had never been to Dragonstone. 

Aemon nodded. "I want to see Vermithor."

She chuckled. "And you will, my brave boy. But first, you must see the home of your ancestors."

Through the mist and wind, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen rose above the waters.

Rhaenyra smiled. 

She was home.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra sank further into the tub, a hand on her slightly swollen belly. When she discovered that she was with child for the third time, her first thought had been confusion. She had not shared a bed with Laenor in quite some time. Her next though was horror. She had been taking the moon tea Maester Gerardys brewed up for her every time she and Harwin, well, you know. How could she be pregnant? Something must have gone wrong.

Harwin had been ecstatic, of course. He shared her worries, though, that their child would be born looking to much like a Strong, and not enough like a Targaryen.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Harwin strode into the room. "I brought some oils for your hair."

She smiled. "My brave knight, fetching me my hair products."

"Anything for my queen," he said, kissing her hand. 

After her bath, she dressed in a red gown and went to find her children. The staff at Dragonstone were all loyal attendants that had adored her mother during Aemma Arryn's brief time as Lady of Dragonstone before King Jaehaerys's death, and they all were aware of Rhaenyra's relationship with Harwin. What they weren't aware of, however, was the fact that the child in their princess's belly was not Ser Laenor's.

"How are your boys?" Harwin asked cordially as they strode through the halls.

Rhaenyra sighed. "Aemon adores Vermithor, and Baelon is very, very jealous." Her eldest had claimed the Bronze Fury not long after their arrival, to her shock. Her heart had very nearly dropped to her slippers when Aemon had soared by the window of her study, waving with a big grin on his face.

Baelon was still sour about it, and had doubled his efforts in claiming a dragon.

Harwin chuckled. "And Laenor?"

"Off visiting his sister in Essos."

"All the way in Essos?"

"He has a dragon, Harwin."

The knight clasped his hands behind his back. "Right."

The boys were playing in the throne room. Baelon was the pretend king, and Aemon was his dragon. Rhaenyra giggled as her youngest shouted, "Of we go, my noble steed!" and jumped onto his elder brother's back. Aemon, clearly struggling under the weight of his brother, hobbled around the room, roaring weakly. 

"Mother is my queen!" Baelon declared, marching over and taking Rhaenyra's hand. He led her to the throne, and hopped up onto her lap. "We are both king and queen!"

Rhaenyra smiled and held her son to her chest. "And you would make a mighty king, my sweet boy."

Baelon beamed.

--------------------------------------

Five moons later, Rhaenyra went into labor.

Harwin was at her side, as was Laenor, who had returned from his trip to announce that Laena was with child again. Rhaenyra had been delighted, as their children had always gotten along in the brief times they'd seen each other.

Now, she moved around the room, gritting her teeth in pain.

"Just breath, princess," Elinda Massey offered.

"Thank you, Elinda," Rhaenyra got out. She hated the snappy tone she used, but giving birth meant losing every ounce of fucks to give.

All she wanted was a healthy baby. Who cared whether or not the child would have her hair? Alicent could go fuck herself, and so could her cunt of a father.

A few hours later, Rhaenyra gave one more hearty push, and the cries of a child filled the room. "A boy!" Elinda gasped, jumping up and down with joy. "Oh, he looks just like you, princess."

Her son was placed into her arms, and Rhaenyra couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips when she saw a tuft of silver hair on her sweet boy's head.

"He's perfect," Harwin breathed.

Rhaenyra smiled. "Did you hear? He looks like me."

"I know," he said back, and kissed his son's head.

---------------------------------------

Alicent crumpled the letter in her hand. A son. With pale hair and his mother's eyes. 

She knew what the rest of the court must have thought of her now. The crazy queen, jealous of her beautiful stepdaughter and her sons.

Pathetic.

She needed to do something. Prince Aemon had claimed Vermithor earlier in the year, while only Aegon had managed to produce a hatchling. Sunfyre, a pretty little thing, but useless next to the famed Bronze Fury.

And the Lady Laena rode, Vhagar, the largest dragon in the world.

Dreamfyre still remained in the Dragonpit. Helaena had always admired the blue beast, perhaps Alicent could nudge her in that direction.

Either way, she would get her dragons.

Chapter Text

Aemon squeezed Rhaenyra's hand firmly, his bottom lip quivering. She knew how much he hated King's Landing, but a visit had been deemed necessary, to present her newest son, named Gaemon after the Glorious, to court. Rhaenyra didn't want Alicent Hightower to get the idea she was hiding anything. It had been a year since Gaemon's birth, and now was the time to introduce him to the life of a Targaryen prince.

They were announced in the courtyard, where a crowd had gathered to see their beloved princess returned home. They cheered loudly as she descended from the carriage, even louder when Laenor emerged with Gaemon on his hip, the boy's lilac eyes scanning the crowd. Laenor had persisted on the name Joffrey, but Rhaenyra argued over how non-Valyrian it sounded. He had, wisely, conceded.

Viserys scooped his new grandson from his son-in-law's arms, grinning brightly. "Gaemon, I hear?"

Gaemon stared at his grandsire, confused.

Rhaenyra kissed her father's cheeks, as well as her son's. "Indeed, your grace. After the Glorious."

"And glorious he shall be." The aging king patted his other two grandsons on the head. "I also hear that you have claimed the mighty Vermithor, Aemon."

Aemon beamed. "I did, grandsire! He's huge!"

The crowd chuckled. Baelon pouted, and Rhaenyra took his tiny hand in her own. She knew how jealous he was, seeing as his own egg had failed to hatch in the cradle. Her sweet boy had been devastated, crying into his pillow at night.

Corlys Velaryon wormed his way forward and patted Laenor on the back. "Where is my grandson?" he boomed, earning a laugh from the Targaryen party. Rhaenyra chuckled awkwardly, as did Laenor. Nonetheless, Corlys held the young boy and bounced him on his hip.

"I do believe he has his father's nose," Viserys noted.

Rhaenyra changed the subject quickly, ushering everyone inside.

"Three boys now," Queen Alicent said coldly. "Perhaps it is time for another girl to enter the family.

Rhaenyra played the civilized princess, keeping one hand on her flat-for-now belly. "I hope so. A girl would be a nice change of scenery." She gave Laenor a pointed look, and he gave an affronted gasp.

"Ouch," he mumbled in her ear once the queen had moved on.

Her half-siblings were in the throne room, seated at the table where a feast had been laid out. Helaena shyly greeted Aemon, who was all smiles and japes, and Aegon was well into his cups by then. Aemond sat quietly in the chair next to the one reserved for his mother.

"Look at us," Viserys marveled once they were all seated. "One family again. And Ser Lyonel, of course."

The Hand raised his cup in acknowledgement. Rhaenyra quite liked the Lord of Harrenhal, who was also Gaemon's grandsire. He had served her father loyally, giving him much needed advice that Otto Hightower refrained from. His son Larys...not so much.

A musician from the Streets of Silk was summoned to play, and Baelon eagerly leapt out of his seat and approached Alicent, who eyes him warily.

"Would you like to dance with me, lady grandmother?" he asked.

Rhaenyra choked on her stew, and wine came spewing out of Aegon's nose.

Alicent gaped. Laenor chuckled. Aemon giggled. Rhaenyra could faintly hear the sound of one of the servants howling with laughter from the hallway.

The queen recovered quickly. "I-um, thank you, Prince Baelon, but I must decline. My, er, joints are bothering me."

Baelon shrugged and moved over to Helaena. "May I have this dance, Princess Helaena?"

Rhaenyra noticed how he didn't call her, lady aunt.

The children danced and danced until they were hoarse with laughter. It was nice, seeing her son happy after suffering disappointment. She wanted Baelon to find his dragon, not for the promise of added power to her cause, but because she wanted him to be happy.

As the night wore down, Rhaenyra cleared her throat and stood. "I must admit, it brings me joy to see this family as one again. For to long we have been at odds with each other, something that we must remedy." She raised her cup, making sure all the servant's were well withing earshot. "To her grace, the queen. No one has served more loyally by my father's side than she, and for that, she has my gratitude."

Alicent blinked. "Your words move me deeply, princess."

Rhaenyra smiled. "If I may, I would also like to announce that come winter, Ser Laenor and I will be having our fourth child."

Viserys gasped, and Lyonel Strong applauded. "Congratulations, princess," the Hand said.

The king took his daughter's hand. There were tears in his eyes. "Well done, my girl."

"That was quick," Aemond remarked.

Rhaenyra chuckled. "Indeed it was, Prince Aemond."

This time, she could breath. The child was Laenor's of that she was certain. Harwin had left for Harrenhal for a week, and she needed something to distract herself. Luckily, Laenor and Qarl were both up for it, so long as she was. Gaemon's birth had been relatively easy, and she was ready for another child.

Hopefully, this one was a girl.

-------------------------------------------

A week later Laenor strode into their adjacent chambers, and Rhaenyra could see that he had been sobbing. Her husband held a letter in his hand, a hand that was shaking.

"What is it?" she asked, worried. Aemon halted his playing on the floor, a giggly Gaemon across from him. Baelon was in the nursery.

Laenor tried to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he presented the letter. Rhaenyra snatched it from his hand and read.

Laenor,

Laena is

Your sister

Two moons ago, Laena died giving birth to our son. The babe was breached, and there was nothing we could do. She had Vhagar burn her. Laena was a clever woman, brave and kind. I loved her. Very much.

The funeral will be held soon. I don't know when.

Daemon.

Rhaenyra sank onto the bed, a hand clamped over her mouth. "Laenor..."

He dropped down next to her, putting his head in his hands. She let him lean on her shoulder, feeling his tears soak through her gown. Aemon held his father's hand while Gaemon babbled on the floor, confused.

Laena was dead. 

Rhaenyra thought of the girls, Baela and Rhaena, alone without their mother.

She cried with her husband.

Chapter Text

Alicent stood stiffly as Vaemond Velaryon spoke his eulogy. Viserys wheezed as he leaned on his cane, but remained stoic. Honestly, she didn't really know why she was here. Laena Velaryon had married the king's brother, but she was of no importance to the family. 

The poor woman is dead, Alicent chided herself, there is no need to be rude.

Still, she stifled a yawn.

As the Lady Laena's casket was slid into the ocean, she glanced over to where Rhaenyra and her children stood. Laenor bowed his head silently while the princess watched the last remains of her friend drift away. Gaemon had been deemed to young for the funeral, but Aemon and Baelon were at their mother's side, the former holding his father's hand.

The wake began, and Alicent immediately swiped a glass of wine from a passing maid. Criston Cole approached and sighed. "A sad day. I pity the lady's daughters."

Indeed, Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena sat on a bench furthest away from the crowd. Their grandmother, Rhaenys, had a hand on Baela's shoulder. "Yes, the poor girls."

She noticed Rhaenyra whisper something in her boys' ears, and the two wandered off. Alicent watched as the princes each took up a place next to their cousins, and Aemon even took Baela's hand. A good boy, Alicent had to admit. 

Baelon...well, the lady grandmother comment still stuck with her.

"I see Ser Harwin has returned safely from Harrenhal," Criston noted. 

She nodded. Ser Harwin spoke to the princess near the edge of the balcony, just as Cole and the queen gossiped. Rhaenyra shook her head in response to something the knight said, and he frowned, looking at Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon. 

"It appears so."

"And has your lord father written?"

"He has spoken to Larys Strong. The Hand is planning on making a trip to Harrenhal at the end of the spring, that is when he will strike."

Criston sipped his wine. "Has Prince Aemond been, guided?"

Alicent looked to her youngest son, who stood next to his elder brother. She had been bringing up Vhagar idly in their conversations in the weeks following Lady Laena's death, and now the boy was infatuated with the beast. The largest dragon in the world on their side would be major.

"He is...ready."

She smirked and faced the sky.

------------------------------------

Rhaenyra felt her boots sink into the sand. Daemon said nothing as he strode next to her. She had invited him for a walk after their children had gone to bed, to speak after nearly seven years of not seeing each other.

She found a spot to sit, finding the sound of the waves crashing onto shore relaxing. "How are the girls?" she asked.

Daemon ran a hand through his hair. "As well as one can expect."

"Se skorkydoso glaesā?" She raised a brow. And how are you?

"Nyke jorrāelatan zȳhon sīr olvie," he said with a hitch in his voice.

Rhaenyra closed her eyes. "I know you loved her."

"And I killed her."

Her eyes snapped open. "Daemon-"

He stood fiercely. "I wanted another child, Rhaenyra. Baela and Rhaena were perfect, are perfect, but I wanted an heir, a son. Gods," he kicked the sand, "I was so foolish!"

Rhaenyra did not know what to say. "Daemon, she would not want you to carry on like this."

"How can I not? The babe was breached, and the maester said either I could gut her like a pig or let them both die. I remember what happened to Aemma, we all do, and I wasn't about to subject my wife to the same fate." He strode away, then turned back around. "She mut have overheard, because she ran. From me. And before I could stop her, the flames, they..." he trailed off. "Does that make me the monster this cursed Realm expects me to be?"

Rhaenyra grabbed him by the shoulders. "It makes you human, Daemon. We all make impossible choices. Gods, I have made more than I can count."

He smiled sadly. "Like agreeing to go out to the Streets of Silk with me?"

She shook her head. "No, kepus. I do not regret that. And Laena would not want you regretting your choices."

"She deserved better."

"But she chose you, uncle. Honor her memory, keep her spirit alive with your girls and be content with the life you have."

Daemon faced the ocean, as if it would bring his lost love back. "Would you consider taking in Baela and Rhaena as your wards?"

She gaped. "Oh, I...Laenor and I hadn't discussed it. But if it would help you-"

"It is not me I worry about. It is my girls. They need a mother, or at least someone close to one. Someone to guide them, teach them, keep Laena alive in their memories."

Rhaenyra dropped a hand to her stomach, where her babe was growing. She had yet to begin showing, but she could feel her daughter in there. "What if we betrothed Baelon to Rhaena? I know Baela is the eldest, but Rhaena is closer in age, and Baelon adores her. It would make Laena's daughter the Lady of Driftmark."

"Just as she always wanted," Daemon said, more to himself.

She smiled. "I would love having the girls with us on Dragonstone. As would Laenor, I am sure."

That satisfied Daemon. "You always had a gentler heart than I."

"The Realm's Delight, remember?"

He chuckled. The moon had risen by the time they began walking back, and there wasn't a speck of life to be seen on Driftmark's shore.

Daemon opened his mouth. "Rhaenyra, I-"

A shadow flew over them, so large it blocked out the moon.

"The fuck?" Rhaenyra burst out, squinting to see a dragon high up in the air, with a very familiar rider on top of it. Vhagar. And that was..."Oh fuck!" she screeched, picking up her skirts and bolting towards Driftmark's caslte with Daemon hot on her heels.

"What, who is it?" he asked.

Rhaenyra was out of breath by the time she reach the gates of High Tide, and a frightened servant let them in easily. By the time she got to the throne room, a crowd had gathered. Corlys had Baela braced behind him, and Rhaenys held Rhaena to her side. Daemon raced over to his girls, crushing them in a hug.

She spotted Harwin standing next to her boys, both of whom were bloody and battered. Baelon clutched his nose with tears pouring out of his eyes. "What happened?" she asked gently. "Let me see."

Baelon sniffled but removed his hand to reveal a bloody nose. "He-he called us bastards."

She saw red. "Who did?"

Her son pointed to the figure seated in a chair across from a maester. Alicent hovered over the maester as he spoke, and the figure turned.

It was Aemond, but where his left eye had been, a long red gash had been stitched up. "What happened?" Rhaenyra asked again, holding both her boys close.

Alicent was furious. "I'll tell you what happened! Your son took my son's eye!"

She looked down. "Is that true?" she whispered, not wanting to question her son's in front of all these people.

Baelon's lower lip quivered. "I claimed Vhagar, mama. Just like I wanted. But when I got down, uncle Aemond was there, and he got mad, saying I stole her from him."

Aemon leaned back to look up at his mother. "We heard Aemond sneaking out of his chambers, Baela and I. Rhaena wanted to go with, so we followed him. When we got there, they were fighting."

Rhaenyra turned to Aemond. "Brother, I apologize for my son's. They did not know better-"

"Did not know better?" Alicent shrieked. "The little beast took my son's eye!"

Harwin stepped forward, jaw clenched, but Rhaenyra held out a hand. "Baelon claimed Vhagar fairly, your grace. I do not understand why Prince Aemond was angry."

"Because he wanted it!"

"A dragon is not a toy, your grace. Vhagar chooses her rider, not the other way around."

Alicent seethed. "I am no fool, princess, I know how bloody dragons work."

She resisted the urge to scoff. "And what prompted Prince Baelon to attack Prince Aemond?"

Aemon stepped forward. "He called us bastards!"

The room went silent. 

Baela joined in on Aemon's claim. "It's true. Aemond called them..." she hesistated.

"Called them what?" Corlys asked his granddaughter.

Baela looked right at Harwin. "He called them Strongs."

Corlys was outraged. "Treason!" he declared, and many in the room echoed his sentiment.

Viserys, who had been seated on the Driftwood throne, slammed his cane against the ground. "Enough!" he cried out. "Aemond, why would you say such a thing?"

Alicent had turned as white as a ghost. Aemond swallowed. "I-I heard them from...Aegon."

"Me?" Aegon said, confused. "I didn't say that? I like my nephews!"

Viserys shook his head. "Do not lie, Aemond. Please, tell me."

The queen shook her head. "Your son has just lost an eye, Viserys."

"What would you have me do?" Viserys rose and took Alicent's hands. A bit of the warmth he'd once had for her flickered in them. "Nothing can be done, my dear, I am sorry. But such insults being levied against the heir's own flesh and blood can be dangerous." He faced the crowd. "Anyone whose tongue dares question the validity of the princes birth shall have it removed."

Gods, where was Laenor? Rhaenyra was more than a little frustrated with her husband.

"Thank you, father," Rhaenyra bowed her head. 

Alicent huffed out a laugh. "I tried, Viserys. I tried. I will have payment for my son's eye." She turned to her lapdog Cole. "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Baelon Velaryon."

Baelon whimpered, "Mother," and back away.

Rhaenyra stood in front of her children as Harwin took up position next to them. "You will do no such thing."

"He will do as I command!" Alicent shrieked. 

Criston looked from princess to queen. "I am your sworn shield, my queen, but I cannot...my honor...I cannot. Forgive me."

Viserys faced his wife. "No more will be said of what happened here tonight. Do you understand?"

He turned to walk away. A mistake. 

"If the king will not seek justice," Alicent proclaimed, "the queen will."

She took the dagger from his belt and lunged. 

Rhaenyra stepped forward as people screamed. Alicent brought the blade down as hard as she could.

"Why?" Alicent asked. "I do everything that was expected of me, yet it is still not enough?"

"Because what you are doing is wrong," Rhaenyra said tearfully. "What you have done to get to this point was wrong."

"I did it for the good of the Realm."

"No, you only did it for the good of yourself!"

Alicent went white, and her grip loosened. 

Rhaenyra leaned on closer. "I was your friend, Alicent. You were a sister to me. Now, you are nothing but a monster."

The queen pulled back, slicing the blade down.

It sunk into Rhaenyra's flesh, not enough to harm any major arteries, but enough that it hurt. A lot.

Harwin pulled her back by the shoulders, one hand immediately going to her wrist. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "Rhaenyra, are you alright?" 

"I am fine, she breathed as Corlys Velaryon stood at her other side. Rhaenys followed, as did Daemon and the girls.

Together, the Blacks stared at the lone member of the Greens, who gaped in horror at what she'd done.

King Viserys looked to his wife with more hostility then Rhaenyra had ever seen in her life.

"Ser Harold," he said in a cold voice. "Return the queen to her chambers. And do not let her out."

Rhaenyra felt the blood trickle down her arm steadily. 

Fire and Blood, those were her house words.

And now it was time for Alicent to face the fire.

Chapter Text

The princess stood at the railing, watching Driftmark slowly fade away into the mist. Alicent was on the opposite side, flanked by two trusted members of the guard. All on board whispered as the queen passed, sending her nasty looks and sneers. Alicent had attacked the princess, the heir. Her son had lost an eye, yes, but none blamed Baelon, and all felt pity for Aemond.

Rhaenyra tugged on the fur cuffs of her coat, letting the smell of salt fill her nose. 

She felt Harwin take his place beside her. "May I speak?"

"You are always free to speak, Harwin."

He sighed, bracing his hands on the rail. "What Prince Aemond said-"

Rhaenyra turned to him. "No one believes a word of it." 

"I know. It's the fact that she believes it that puts your boys, as well as Gaemon at risk. It puts you at risk, Nyra."

"A risk I am willing to take." She watched Alicent, who was eyeing the four dragons that flew above their ship. "We are safe, Harwin. Gaemon is safe. Right now, everyone believes her to be mad and I nothing more than the poor heir."

Harwin closed his eyes. "I just want you to be safe. You and your babe."

Rhaenyra made sure no one was around as she took his gloved hand, curling an arm around her own waist, protecting the child inside. "I am safe, my love. With you."

He smiled. "You know, my father departs for Harrenhal on the morrow."

"Thinking of paying a visit to the Reach?"

"No, I'm trying to convince Larys to go with him."

She raised a brow. "Why?"

"So that his little birds aren't watching when I take you in the solar."

Rhaenyra gaped and swatted his arm. "Harwin Strong!"

Harwin laughed. "A jape, princess," he insisted.

She crossed her arms. "Perhaps you are wrong and I'll be the one to take you."

He looked at her knowingly. "And where would you take me?"

"On the Iron Throne."

Harwin choked on the air he breathed.

-----------------------------------

Viserys pinched his nose as his daughter stood before him.

"I will not, father," she persisted.

He looked up. "You made the request, Rhaenyra. Should the queen ever act out of line again, you would take the children as your wards."

"Her son attacked mine."

"And Baelon took his eye!"

"An accident!"

Viserys huffed, leaning back against his chair. 

Rhaenyra sighed. "I'm sorry, father. But I do not want Aemond and Baelon near each other, there is to much bad blood between them."

"And Aegon? Helaena? She is your son's betrothed."

She flopped into the chair reserved for Lord Corlys. "Aegon is fine. Has the makings of a drunk, but he's fine. Helaena, you know I adore her. But Baelon is frightened by Aemond now, and I'm sure the prince now holds a grudge against my son which is understandable, but still."

Viserys folded his hands together. "What would you do?"

"I will take the children with me to Dragonstone. Prince Daemon has offered to send his daughter's as well, seeing as Rhaena and Baelon are now betrothed."

His brows flicked up. "This is news."

She waved a hand. "Yes, I apologize for not informing you sooner, but...well, you know what happened. Should both parties stay with Laenor and I, perhaps the Lady Baela could be betrothed to Aemond, as a way to strengthen the bond between our houses. I spoke to Daemon before our departure from Driftmark, and he has agreed, so has Lord Corlys and the Princess Rhaenys."

Viserys pondered the matter. "It would keep the Velaryon's satisfied, I will admit that. When did you become so politically astute?"

His daughter smiled. She looked so much like Aemma when she did that. "I have had many tricks up my sleeve, father."

"Should I be worried?"

Rhaenyra crossed over and kissed his cheek. "Not in the slightest."

"Very well."

Her smile disappeared, and she looked serious. "What is Alicent's punishment?"

He sighed, growing weary of the matter. "She is to be confined to her chambers for the next few years, until I have decided she has learned her lesson. Meals will be given to her, she will have her ladies and her maids, as well as a septa, and will be allowed three walks in the gardens every day."

"You are generous."

He patted his daughter's hand. "No, my dear, I'm afraid I am not. Our children are leaving her, and her father is all the way in Oldtown. She is alone."

Rhaenyra looked out the window and sighed. "She has alone been alone, father. I just think it took a while for her to realize it."

He couldn't disagree with that.

Chapter Text

The birthing bed had become familiar to Rhaenyra after giving birth to three children already. Harwin let her crush his hand with her own, and Laenor shouted words of encouragement from the other side, though he was more than often told to shut up. Mainly by his wife. Elinda moved about the bed, carrying bloody sheets back and forth, giving the midwives room to work.

"You're almost there, princess," the head midwife urged. "Just one more."

One more. She could do one more.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed. The squalls of a newborn filled the room, and the midwives all gasped. "A girl, princess!"

Rhaenyra smiled, her joy brighter than the sun that streamed through the window. Her little girl was placed into her arms, kicking and wailing, with lilac eyes and pale hair, her skin a shade darker than her paler brother's. She was beautiful. Laenor stroked his daughter's cheek with a finger, all while her screaming subsided. Harwin stepped back, allowing the two a moment of privacy.

"Alyssa," Rhaenyra declared. "My grandmother's name."

Laenor took Alyssa in his arms. "You know, it would be nice to have a Velaryon name," he joked.

"You forget that the Lady Alyssa Velaryon was the Old King's mother, a daughter of Lord Aethan Velaryon."

He sighed. "You have a tremendous memory."

"No, I just pay attention."

Harwin stifled a laugh in the corner.

---------------------------------------

Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond arrived to Dragonstone two days later, accompanied by two ships and none other than their mother's lapdog, Ser Cole. Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose as the knight assisted Prince Aemond down from the ship, the other two were on dragonback. 

Rhaenyra rocked Alyssa in her arms, her babe nestled comfortably in a fur blanket. Her daughter watched her with bright eyes as Baelon stood on his toes to better see his sister. The boys were all enchanted with Alyssa, and a few fights had broken out over who would get to hold her and such. Being the eldest, Aemon often won those fights.

Sunfyre and Dreamfyre landed in the Stone Drum, and their riders joined Aemond at the docks to meet their elder sister. Aemond had been fashioned an eyepatch and wore it proudly, trying to cover up his shame at losing both an eye and a dragon. Rhaenyra pitied her little brother, who had done nothing wrong except being born into the wrong family.

"Welcome to Dragonstone," the princess greeted them. "You will want for nothing here. All your needs will be attended to, as will your dragons."

Helaena shyly stepped forward. "Is that your daughter?"

How she guessed, Rhaenyra had no clue. But she smiled at her sister. "Indeed it is. Her name is Alyssa."

"That's pretty."

"Thank you, princess."

Ser Criston cleared his throat. "Her grace has requested that I stay with the children for the month, to make sure they are...comfortable."

To spy, more than likely. "Very well then, ser. Children, this way."

She handed off Alyssa to Laenor as she gave her half-siblings a tour. "My study is off to the left," she said once they were in the hall. "If you need anything, just knock. Aemon's rooms, Baelon's, and Gaemon's are all on this end, while mine and Ser Laenor's are on the opposite."

Aemond frowned, puzzled. "Where does Ser Harwin sleep?"

Harwin chuckled. "In the stables, my prince." When Aemond's eyes bulged, the knight patted his shoulder. "I jest, my prince. I sleep all the way on the other side of the castle, with the rest of the princess's guard."

"Huh," was all the pale prince said.

Aegon seemed unimpressed. "Where is the wine cellar?" he asked.

Rhaenyra huffed out a laugh. "Locked, I'm afraid. Unable to be opened unless I command it."

"Why?"

"Because I do not drink. Unlike my dear husband," she added with a look.

Laenor chuckled.

Rhaenyra showed the children their rooms. Helaena's, she had bedecked in calming shades of blue, which the princess greatly enjoyed. Aegon and Aemond's chambers were in  Targaryen reds and blacks, and a pinch of green here and there, to remind them of their mother. Rhaenyra did not want her siblings miserable, so if she had to give Alicent Hightower a bit of presence, so be it.

Once Aegon and Helaena were in their rooms, Rhaenyra pulled Aemond to the side. "We have several dragons residing in the pits under the mountain. If you wish to claim one, I would be happy to assist."

Her brother seemed shocked, as if he hadn't thought her capable of such a thing. Allowing Alicent's son a dragon may have been considered foolish, but a Targaryen without a dragon was a sad prospect, and Rhaenyra did not want her family sad. Besides, if the children stayed long enough and got to know their sister, they could use their dragons in support of Rhaenyra, not the Hightower's.

The family dined together that night, a stiff Ser Cole keeping a watchful eye on all they did. Aemond and Baelon, despite their strenuous relationship, remained civil with one another, answering questions the other asked and staying calm all the while. 

"Vermithor eats like a pig," Aemon told his aunt and uncles. "Once ate two whole pigs at once, in one bite!"

Aegon swirled his goblet around, disappointed in the simple water in it. Rhaenyra set her fork down. "Aegon," she said, getting his attention, "should you ever wish to return to the comforts of King's Landing, just know I would not begrudge you."

Her younger brother looked at her and nodded.

Helaena and Aemon sat next to one another, recounting their separate tales of mischievous dragons and sneaky little brothers. "Baelon put a squirrel in my bed yesterday," he told her.

Rhaenyra nearly choked on her wine. "Baelon did what?" 

Baelon ducked under the table. Then, there came a muffled, "Aemon snuck some of Vermithor's dung into my privy."

"Aemon!"

Alicent's children watched, as if expecting her to yell, scream, or even grab her boys. Instead, the rubbed at her temples. "Both of you make your apologies and promise not to frustrate your poor mother ever again. I swear, I'll have grey hair by the time I am five and thirty."

Baelon frowned. "But mother, you already have grey hair."

She gaped and the children giggled. "I have silver hair, sweet boy."

"Aren't they the same color?"

Rhaenyra took a long swig of her wine as her half-brothers burst into laughter.

Chapter Text

Alicent read the letter once and tossed it into the fire.

Lyonel Strong was dead. A fire, that was the official report, started by a careless maid who bumped into a candle and set the Harrenhal ablaze. Harwin had not been with his father, to her dismay.

The letter had been from Larys. 

The deed is done, my queen. Your father will be reinstated shortly, I presume.

Your Loyal Servant, Clubfoot

Alicent clutched the seven pointed star that hung from a chain around her throat. It comforted her, knowing the Gods were on her side. Now all she needed was for Aegon to return to King's Landing and she could put the notion of being king into his mind. 

The green veil she wore masked her smile as she bade a maid to fetch her husband.

Viserys hobbled in shortly after, accompanied by Ser Harold, as always. Alicent played the distraught wife and let a tear slide down her face. "Husband, I am so terribly sorry for this loss. Lord Lyonel was a good man." A man that had kept Rhaenyra in favor and Ser Otto in Oldtown. "I beg of you to let me attend the funeral."

The king patted her hand. "I would not forbid you to grieve, Alicent. I understand Larys Strong is an acquaintance of yours, and this loss must be weighing heavily on him."

Alicent bit her lip and looked away. Larys had orchestrated his father's death, and his brother's. But Harwin hadn't been among the dead. No, he had been on Dragonstone, playing whore to the spoiled princess.

"Indeed," she nodded sadly. "Larys is Master of Whispers, my love, a trusted member of your council. I wish to offer my condolences formally."

Her husband looked at her warily. "Yes, Ser Harwin must also be grieving. He is Lord Strong now."

She gritted her teeth. Having Larys as Lord of Harrenhal would have benefitted her greatly. But she would deal with Harwin later. "All I want is to soothe the ache Lord Lyonel's sons must be feeling."

Viserys sighed. "Very well. You may attend the funeral at Harrenhal, and the wake. But no more."

Alicent bowed her head. "As you will it, my king."

--------------------------------------------

Rhaenyra watched Harwin as the procession moved through the Riverlands. Atop her silver mare, she saw grief etched onto his face, though he tried to mask it. Her sons all rode their ponies next to Laenor, who bore little Gaemon on the saddle in front of him. Alyssa had been left at Dragonstone with Elinda. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond rode side by side, Aegon admiring the scenery, his sister muttering to herself, and Aemond staring straight ahead. Seeing as Ser Lyonel had been Hand to the King, it made sense for the king's own heir and children to attend the funeral.

On the outside, Harrenhal looked perfectly intact, not a scratch marring the stone. The inside most likely told a different tale, but the funeral would not be held there. Rhaenyra pulled her veil up to see the royal carriage that had just stopped at Harrenhal's front gates. That would be her father. They were welcomed at the front gates by Lyonel's former steward, a graying man who greeted Harwin with a bow and addressed him as Lord Strong. 

In the fields behind Harrenhal, a crowd of mourners had already gathered. As Harwin welcomed them, Rhaenyra faced the children. "Be on your best behavior. Ser Lyonel was a trusted friend of the Crown. Be sure to treat his kin as such."

"Yes, mother," her boys echoed. 

She faced her siblings. "If you wish to find father, I believe he is near the drinks."

Aegon, who had gotten much better with his drinking, opted to stay put. But Aemond and Helaena set off in search of the king.

"Funerals frighten me," Aegon admitted.

Rhaenyra raised a brow. "How so?"

He shrugged, his black cloak whipping in the wind. "The dead just lying there, not moving, everyone crying and then telling happy stories...I just don't like it, I'm sorry."

"You needn't apologize, Aegon. You know at my first funeral, I was frightened as a sheep, seeing so many people mourning."

Aegon frowned. "Who's funeral were you at?"

She took a deep breath, taking in the smells of the Riverlands. "My mother's."

Her brother's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry." He bit his lip. "You never speak of her, Queen Aemma. My mother certainly never spoke of her. What was she like?"

Rhaenyra twisted her mother's ring around her finger. It was a deep blue stone set in silver, for House Arryn. "She was kind. She smiled a lot, which made other people smile."

"I heard...I heard that she had...many miscarriages." 

She put a hand on his shoulder. "My mother was young when she had me. Too young, some might say. After me, having children became a struggle. I had six siblings, do you know that? Four of them died in the cradle, and and two of them were dead out of the womb. That was why my father named me heir, because I was the only one he had left." She led her brother through the gardens. Aegon watched her, fascinated by her unshed history.

"Your own mother was my dearest friend, did she tell you that?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "She spoke of you only as a threat. To me."

Rhaenyra paused, and faced him. "She thinks that because when you were born, I did think you a threat. A threat to our father's love."

"What do you mean?"

She lifted the veil from her head and tossed it onto a bench in front of a lovely plot of begonias. She beckoned Aegon to sit, which he did. "When your mother married my father, it hurt. I was a foolish child, who blamed her for my sorrows, which wasn't true. And when you were born, father's gaze shifted from me to you, and I was jealous. I thought he would name you heir the moment you were out of the womb but he never did, and I ended up living the first three years of your life in paranoia, thinking that at any moment, I would be cast aside and you would get the crown."

Aegon clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "What changed?"

Rhaenyra chuckled. "I had children. After Aemon, I realized that my fear had prevented me from having a true relationship with the siblings I'd so desperately wanted. It made things clearer, and that is why I agreed to have you and your siblings at Dragonstone."

"So you didn't want to use us as hostages?"

"Is that what your mother told you?"

He bowed his head in shame.

Rhaenyra put a hand on his back. "No, I never intended to use you as hostages. Aegon, I love you, and Helaena, and Aemond, like you were my own."

When he looked up, there was silver lining his eyes. His big sister pulled him in for a hug, and he seemed to melt in her arms. "Thank you, sister."

She touched his face gently. "Of course, valonquar. Now, let us go say our goodbyes to the greatest Hand who ever served our father."

Aegon looped his arm through hers, ever the gentlemen, despite being a head shorter than her, and led them out of the garden.

Chapter Text

Lyonel Strong's body, or, what was left of it, was buried next to his wife's.

Rhaenyra sipped from her goblet, watching the mourners give their condolences to the Strong brothers. Her heart ached for Harwin, who stood sadly at the front. When he'd learned of his father's death, he'd dropped onto their bed and cried. She held him all through the night, his sobs echoing through the castle.

Helaena played with a little spider she had found wandering the grounds. The ugly thing was encased in a glass bottle, and the princess seemed to be inspecting it.

"The green viper poisons the rivers with her venom," she muttered.

Rhaenyra's head turned sharply. "What did you say?"

The princess blinked, as if pulled from a trance. "I-I um..."

"Helaena, it is alright. You can speak to me."

Her little sister watched the spider crawl up his enclosure. "I saw a viper, green as grass on a warm summer's day, dripping venom from her fangs into a river. A river of blue."

A river of red. The sigil of House Strong was three rivers, red, green...and blue. And a green viper...green. "What else did you see?"

"A foot, made of wood, beating down on a red dragon."

"Oh, fuck," Rhaenyra whispered to herself.

Helaena looked up. "Did I say something wrong?"

Rhaenyra braced both hands on her sister's tiny shoulders. "No, sweet girl, you've said everything right."

Helaena smiled, and wandered off.

---------------------------------------

Alicent's feet were growing sore from standing. Next to her, Criston shifted his weight. He had recently returned from Dragonstone, bearing reports of the Princess Rhaenyra's hospitality towards her siblings, and her kind words.

A load of horse dung, Cole called it.

She noticed the way people watched her, as if at any moment she'd reveal a hidden dagger from her gown and go chasing after the princess like a madwoman. Many people outright glared at her, the Hightower queen, the disgraced queen, the mad queen. Many were close kin of House Strong, and had likely heard the insults levied against the princess's sons that she had started.

Who cared what they thought? Right now, she needed to find Aegon, to convince him to return to the capitol with her and resume his duties as the rightful heir.

Alicent spotted a wisp of blonde hair and surged forward. Many parted for her, being the queen, and some shot her dirty looks as she passed. She needed Aegon, her first son, her first child, born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, not his whore of an elder sister.

But it was not Aegon she stumbled upon, it was Aemond. 

"Mother," her youngest gasped. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He had swapped his makeshift eyepatch for a sleeker, shinier one of black leather.

He wasn't Aegon, but he was still her son. "Oh, Aemond," she breathed, reaching forward to embrace him.

Her son flinched and backed up a step.

Her son flinched.

He flinched. From her.

"Aemond?" a familiar voice called out, and the crowd swept to the side for Rhaenyra, with a confused Aegon by her side. When the princess beheld the queen, her eyes darkened. "Hello, your grace."

Alicent couldn't care less about Rhaenyra. Not when her son shuffled to his sister's side and grasped onto her hand with his own. He had never done that with his mother. Rhaenyra squeezed Aemond's hand and whispered something to Aegon, who shook his head. 

"Where is Helaena?" Alicent demanded.

Rhaenyra swallowed. "I do not know, your grace."

Liar. But there were people watching, and Alicent did not wish to be cooped up in her chambers any longer. "Very well. I shall go find her myself."

The princess nodded and walked away, with both boys following. Alicent could see Prince Aemon and Prince Baelon join their mother as they approached Ser Harwin and Larys, along with Ser Laenor, holding Harwin's bastard, Gaemon.

She scoffed. None of these people had eyes, it seemed. Gaemon possessed the Strong nose and face, and had his real father's tanner complexion.

Rhaenyra had taken everything from her.

Now, she was taking her children.

-----------------------------------

That night, in Rhaenyra's chambers at Dragonstone, she listened to the sounds of Harwin preparing for bed. Nestled underneath her fur blankets, she wondered how she would best break the news. Lyonel's steward would be overseeing the repairs at Harrenhal, meaning Harwin would be spending more time at Dragonstone. As Lord Strong, he had rooms of his own at the castle, instead of the ones reserved for the knights.

Harwin emerged from the closet in loose trousers for bed. "Is something wrong, my love?" he asked, concern lining his handsome features.

He laid down next to her, and Rhaenyra took his hand. "I have to tell you something, my love. But you must promise to listen."

Harwin frowned. "Alright."

"Helaena is a dreamer, like Daenys."

His mouth formed an o. "Well, that is news. How do you know?"

She bit her lip. "She spoke of a green viper, poisoning a blue river with her venom."

Rhaenyra watched as realization dawned on his face. "The queen...but why?"

She cupped his face with her hand. "Because your father was Hand, my love. The replacement for her father. Now, no one will take the position but him, and getting Otto Hightower back to court is like inviting a snake into a bird's nest."

He sat back against the pillows. "But why? He was a good man." The devastation written on his face was unbearable.

But she had to do it. "There is more."

Harwin shook his head. "What?"

"Helaena also saw a foot made of wood, beating down on a red dragon."

"A foot of-" A single tear trickled down Harwin's face. "Larys."

Rhaenyra leaned her head against his shoulder, her hand still intertwined with his. "I'm so sorry, Harwin."

"How could he?"

She sucked in a shaky breath. "Your brother aspires for power, my love. If he were to assist in placing Aegon on the throne, he would be hailed as a Kingmaker by the Greens. He would have everyone regretting the days they taunted him and belittled him."

Harwin threw the covers back and paced. "But why father? I am next in line?" 

"Harwin...you were supposed to go with your father, remember?"

He paused mid-step. "He-I am his brother."

"And a threat to his power. As Lord Strong, he could declare for Aegon."

Harwin slumped onto the bed, and Rhaenyra curled her arms around him, letting the news sink in. "I defended him," Harwin said with a shaky breath. "Whenever he was bullied, or shamed, I was there. And now he wants to kill me?"

"I'm sorry, Harwin."

He turned to face her, palming her cheeks with his broad hands. "It is not your fault, Nyra. I should have known better."

She wiped away her tears. "What do we do now?"

Harwin looked out the window and sighed. "I think you know."

An hour later, a raven departed Dragonstone, headed for King's Landing.

-----------------------------------

Deana read the princess's message and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Larys Strong had murdered his own father.

She knew what she had to do.

It wasn't hard to lure the Clubfoot out of his rooms. She feigned a lack of penmanship to one of Larys's little birds, who in turn assisted Deana in writing an innocent letter to a lover, inviting them out onto the terrace for a midnight stroll. Of course, the Clubfoot would recognize the hand of one of his own spies, and would be eager to find out any new information.

But when Larys Strong hobbled out onto the terrace that night, he found a figure in a rough spun cloak standing at the rail.

"Who goes there?" he demanded.

Deana turned. "Your little bird, m'lord."

Larys moved forward as quick as his leg would allow. "I do not know of any bird that requests a meeting in the middle of the night."

"I work for Alys," she lied smoothly, citing the spy that had unknowingly forged the letter for her. "She delivers a message."

She held out an enclosed fist. Larys reached forward, as if to pluck it from her fingers.

Deana spun and pushed the Clubfoot forward, until he was halfway off the terrace. "Wha-" Larys spluttered, but was cut off by a knife to his throat.

The spy leaned in. "Princess Rhaenyra sends her regards."

She cut the Clubfoot's throat from ear to ear. As Larys Strong choked on his own blood, she tossed him forward, reveling in the sound of gurgled screams as they hit the pavement below.

Daena smirked and wiped the blood of the kinslayer off on her cloak.   

Chapter Text

"Steady," Rhaenyra urged Aemond. "Let him come to you."

Rhaena stood behind her cousin, whimpering every time a roar filled the grey sky. Rhaenyra crouched, her flight leathers groaning. Sheepstealer stood a mere few feet away, sniffing at Aemond curiously. The prince held out a tentative hand, waiting for any indication that the unclaimed dragon liked him.

Sheepstealer moved forward, slowly, his gray scales blending into the sky. "Careful," Rhaenyra whispered. Oh Gods, if her brother was killed doing this, she would never forgive herself. 

The dragon bent his head. Aemond huffed out a joyous laugh and scrambled to mount the beast. Rhaenyra went to twist one of her rings, but found her flying gloves instead.

"Sōvegon," Aemond loudly proclaimed, and with a roar, Sheepstealer took to the sky.

Rhaenyra laughed, and Rhaena jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "My turn!" she proclaimed, and Rhaenyra put an arm around her shoulders.

"We're getting there, sweetling."

"But I want to show father!"

"We will. How would you like to meet Grey Ghost?"

While Aemond got to know his new mount, his sister led Rhaena further along, to where Grey Ghost preferred to nest. Rhaena gasped when she beheld the pale dragon, who feasted on the corpse of a slain cow. "He's beautiful."

Rhaenyra repeated the steps she went through with Aemond to Rhaena. "Do not rush him, or he will perceive it as an attack. Be gentle, respectful. Dragons are meant to be feared by all except their riders, so look brave." She patted Laena's daughter on the cheek. "You can do this, Rhaena."

Rhaena took a deep breath and tightened her silver hair in its bun. Cautiously, she approached the now full dragon. Grey looked up, his black eyes narrowing. Rhaenyra could see him analyzing every move the child before him made, assessing the threat. But Rhaena held her head high, showing no weakness. Brave girl.

Grey sniffed, his size huge when compared to the little girl that was attempting to claim him.

But then, he lowered his body to the ground, and offered a wing for Rhaena to climb up on.

"I did it," Rhaena whispered, turning to Rhaenyra, who was smiling like a proud mother. Giddily, but slowly, she mounted Grey Ghost. "Sōvegon!" she shouted, and after a bit of whining, Grey took to the skies.

Rhaenyra raced back to where Syrax waited, contenting herself on a lamb she'd slaughtered that morning, after they'd landed. The golden dragon easily let Rhaenyra onto her back, and the two raced to catch up to the children.

The much more experienced flyer, Rhaenyra found them easily. "Jēda naejot jikagon lenton," she called to Aemond over the wind. 

Her brother nodded, repeating the words to Rhaena on his left. They banked right, headed towards the Stone Drum, where several blonde heads waited. Once Sheepstealer and Grey were safely in the Drum, Rhaenyra landed Syrax, and six figures immediately swarmed the trio.

"Was it scary?" Aegon asked.

"Are you okay?" Baela said to her sister.

"Did your bum catch fire?" Aemon inquired. "Vermithor burned mine when I claimed him."

Rhaenyra cringed, not wanting to relive that memory.

Laenor went to her side and chuckled. "Perky, aren't they?"

She punched his arm jokingly. "They get it from their father."

"How many japes are you going to make at my expense?"

Rhaenyra patted his shoulder. "Till I am cold in my grave."

He snorted. 

The family all returned to Dragonstone, where the cooks had prepared a hot meal of lamb stew and chocolate cakes. Alyssa sat on her mother's lap, a toddler of one, and just getting her bearings on how to sit up on her own.

"Grey is prettier," Rhaena declared to Baelon.

He pouted. "Not true. Grey doesn't have any color! Vhagar is green at least!"

Rhaenyra kissed Alyssa's hair. "No fighting, children. Both Vhagar and Grey are...lovely."

Aegon snorted into his drink and Rhaenyra shot him a look.

They were interrupted by Maester Gerardys, who scurried in with a letter. "Forgive me, princess. But it is from your father."

She frowned, taking the paper from his hand. 

Rhaenyra,

Larys Strong is dead. It appears he has been pushed from a terrace in the Keep. I require the presence of Harwin Strong immediately, if you would be willing to spare him from your service.

I have also decided to reinstate Otto Hightower as Hand to the King, to assist in this mystery. You may not like this, but rest assured Ser Otto has sworn fealty to you as heir, and has no allegiance whatsoever to Queen Alicent. 

Perhaps you could pay this old man a visit? I haven't seen my grandchildren, or my children, since Ser Lyonel's funeral.

All my love, Viserys

"Oh, fuck me," Rhaenyra cursed.

Laenor and Harwin both moved over to her side. The former muttered a similar curse, while the latter stayed silent. Rhaenyra gripped his hand under the table as Laenor took Alyssa in his arms.

"What is it, mother?" Aemon asked. The children all watched her with the same lilac eyes.

Rhaenyra folded the letter and sighed.

"It seems we are returning to King's Landing."

----------------------------------------

Alicent pursed her lips, her gown fluttering in the wind as the king's party stood in front of the Dragonpit, as a golden dragon descended from the sky. Rhaenyra, no doubt, atop her spoiled queen Syrax. And was that...? Indeed, her new babe, Alyssa, was strapped to her chest.

The queen shook her head. The woman was insane.

Vermithor and Seasmoke, ridden by Ser Laenor with Prince Gaemon in front, followed, as did Vhagar, the largest of them all. Alicent gritted her teeth. That should have been Aemond's dragon.

Next to her, she saw her father clench his jaw, likely feeling the same emotions she felt now.

Then, a new roar filled the air.

Lady Baela flew on Moondancer, a tiny little thing that had barely begun to hold her weight. It was a miracle the beast had made it to King's Landing at all. Aegon whooped from Sunfyre's back, and Helaena followed with Dreamfyre.

Then, two more dragons appeared, and Alicent found her hand going to her throat.

Aemond was on Sheepstealer, one of the famed unclaimed dragons that roamed Dragonstone Island. Lady Rhaena outpaced him on Grey Ghost, though, the two racing through the air.

"Your grace?" Criston was at her side. "You look pale, are you all right?"

Alicent took in deep breaths. "My son is riding an untamable beast, Cole. No, I am not all right."

He backed up as her father leaned in. "Having Sheepstealer on our side is quite the victory, daughter."

She faced him sharply. "Were that the case, father. But Rhaenyra seems to have corrupted my children. They want nothing to do with me."

"Something we shall have to remedy."

Alicent turned back to the skies, where the dragons each made their descent. A moment later, the children all bounced out of the Pit, Rhaenyra and Laenor in the back with little Alyssa still strapped to her mother's chest.

Viserys smiled and embraced his daughter, cooing over the little babe in Velaryon blue swaddles. "A great beauty," he declared. "Just like her mother."

Rhaenyra smirked triumphantly at Laenor, who rolled his eyes.

Prince Aemon marched over to Alicent and bowed. "Good morrow, your grace," he said in his little voice, prompting the watching crowd to sigh at the little prince's manners.

Baelon followed in his brother's lead. "Hello, lady grandmother," he said cheerily, and the crowd burst into laughter.

Alicent seethed. Lady grandmother...the rotten bastard.

Rhaenyra greeted the queen icily, and the Hand even colder. "Good morrow, your grace, Lord Hand. You are looking well."

Alicent lifted her chin. "A girl. I see your hopes have been answered."

The princess smiled at her babe, who was asleep against her mother's chest. "Yes, she is quite the bundle of joy."

"Alyssa, is her name?"

"Yes, after my grandmother."

"Hm," was all she said.

Viserys led them all back to the Red Keep, making sure that the queen and princess were kept in separate carriages. Alicent didn't even have the chance to speak to her children. Once at the Keep, they dined on figs and fresh fruits from the gardens. Aemond recounted his tale of claiming Sheepstealer, to his mother's horror, as did the Lady Rhaena.

Once the day had wound down, Alicent managed to corner Aegon as he made his way to his chambers for the night. "My son," she smiled, embracing him. He let her, but made no move to return the gesture. "How are you?"

He glanced nervously back down the hall. "I am well, your grace. Rhaenyra is a wonderful caretaker, who loves us very much."

Alicent's brows furrowed, and she gripped her son's shoulders harder. "Do not say that, Aegon. She merely means to trick you, to make you loyal. Once your father is dead, she'll have your head!"

Aegon pulled back. "Mother, stop!"

"She will, Aegon! You are the challenge, the threat!"

Footsteps sounded down the hall. "What is going on?" Rhaenyra inquired, breezing past Alicent and going to Aegon's side.

Alicent smoothed her skirts. "I was merely speaking to my son."

Rhaenyra frowned and put a steady hand on Aegon's shoulder. "You ought to be in bed."

He smiled shakily, as if relieved by his sister's presence. "I will, muña," he said, and made his way down the hall.

Rhaenyra blinked, startled. Alicent, unfamiliar with High Valyrian, huffed. "Well, I am off to bed."

"Good night, your grace."

That evening, she sat with Viserys by the fire. They were slowly trying to rebuild their relationship, at Otto's behest. Alicent set down her needlework, biting her lip.

"Husband," she asked, "what does muña mean?"

Viserys frowned. "It means 'mother', my dear."

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra sat in silence as Otto Hightower pleaded his case regarding the murder of Larys Strong.

"It is clear that Ser Larys was not only pushed from the balcony, but indeed had his throat cut before," the Hand was saying.

Of all matters they needed to discuss and they chose this? Rhaenyra wanted to chuck her marble ball at Otto's head, just the watch the arrogant fool fall back in his chair in agony.

"Why Ser Larys?" the Grand Maester questioned. "If an individual wanted to send a message to the Crown, they would have chosen someone of...more importance, if you will forgive me for such a description."

Rhaenyra sighed. "What if we are thinking to hard on this?" she asked, sitting straighter. "Ser Larys was Master of Whispers, and was responsible for putting many criminals in prison, or to the sword. Perhaps his assailant was a lover of one of these criminals, or a relative. Someone that wanted revenge."

Viserys nodded. "Princess Rhaenyra makes an excellent point. But seeing as Ser Larys was a respectable member of the Small Council," Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as the rest of the Council looked to their king, "we must catch his killer and bring justice to House Strong."

"Very well," Rhaenyra said, standing. "Forgive me, father, but I am afraid it is time for me to do my motherly duties to the Princess Alyssa."

Lord Beesbury smiled. "Yes, how is the young princess?"

"Already able to sit up without assistance. I fear she will be running before the next moon has turned."

The men chuckled, all except Otto Hightower, who watched her suspiciously.

Let him. The old fool was eternally proud, thinking he could catch the man who murdered Larys and be hailed a hero. She pitied him, to some extent.

For the killer he searched for had been right in front of him.

------------------------------------------------

Muña

Mother

He had called her mother.

Alicent wrung her hands, letting her green veil brush against them. Her auburn curls hung unbound, casting her as the portrait of a Septa, deep in prayer.

Only she wasn't in prayer. She was in mourning.

Her own flesh and blood saw her not as his mother, but as a stranger, a monster. All while he worshipped his half-sister as if she were the Mother Above herself. It was to much for her to bear.

"Your grace," Ser Criston said from the doorway, "the Lord Hand wishes to see you."

She nodded. "Let him in."

Her father stopped short upon seeing her. "Has someone died?" he asked, puzzled.

"Only my motherhood," she grumbled, leaning back in her seat.

Otto's brows flicked up. "Whatever do you mean?"

Alicent stood sharply, her modest green gown hissing against the floor as she paced. "He called her mother, father. My son called that whore his mother."

The Hand poured a glass of wine for himself. "Of which whore do we speak of? I've had the displeasure of knowing many."

"Rhaenyra!" she seethed. "Aegon called her his muña, his mother."

"Ah, I see our future king has truly been corrupted to the wills of his half-sister."

Alicent clutched the Seven-Pointed-Star that hung from her neck. "How could he? I bore him from my womb, I raised him as the king he was meant to be. Then this-this harlot swoops in and steals him right out from under me!"

Otto took a long draw from his wine. "Have you petitioned the king to get your children back?"

She scoffed. "As if he would listen to me. I am his disgraced queen, remember?"

"This all will pass," her father said, stepping closer. "When Viserys dies, and Aegon is set on the throne, he will be beloved. The people will forget about all this strife between you and the king, because by then, there will be another to erase it from memory."

"You are certain?"

Otto placed a hand on her shoulder. "I am, daughter."

Alicent stared out the window. She had her suspicions over who killed Ser Larys, and with Rhaenyra's return, now presented a perfect opportunity.

She sent for Talya.

"Your grace?" the maid asked.

Alicent smiled sweetly. "Would you be so kind as to fetch my pageboy? I have an errand for him to run."

Talya curtsied and left.

The queen looked out to the streets of King's Landing, where her target lay. An assassin, one in high favor of her father.

Rhaenyra had taken everything from her. Now, she would return the favor.

-----------------------------------------

The princess entered her chamber to find all of her children playing on the floor. Harwin supervised a mock duel between Gaemon and Rhaena, in which the latter allowed her little cousin to win. Baelon showed off his wooden model of Balerion to his uncles, while Helaena and Aemon sat in the corner, leafing through a book about bugs. 

Laenor, seated on a plush armchair with Alyssa bouncing on his knee, looked up. "How did it go?"

She sighed and plucked an impatient Alyssa from her father's arms. "Otto believes it was a message for the Crown." She looked around. "Where is Baela?"

"In the Dragonpit. She's practicing some flying maneuvers with Moondancer."

"I see." She left the room momentarily to feed her daughter, then returned. "Any word from Daemon?"

Harwin nodded. "He intends to visit this week. The prince has been in Essos. Doing what, he didn't say."

Rhaenyra sat with Alyssa in her arms, letting her baby girl play with her silver hair, and try to bite into Rhaenyra's wedding ring, though she always failed, seeing as her teeth had yet to grow in. "That is good to hear."

"Muña," Aemon said, "may we go flying today?"

She considered it. "Alright. Everyone get your flight leathers."

The children all bounced up and scrambled to their rooms.

Once at the Dragonpit, Rhaenyra strapped Alyssa to her chest and mounted Syrax. The others all raced each other in the air, Vhagar easily outpacing them all. Laenor sat Gaemon in front of him, letting the small boy pretend he was the one flying Seasmoke, and not the actual rider behind him. Harwin watched from below, clapping when one of them made a particularly impressive move. Baela was a natural when it came to dives and barrel-rolls. 

"She will do well in battle," Laenor admitted as the family walked to the carriage that would take them home.

Rhaenyra held Alyssa closer to her chest. "Let us hope she does not see battle whatsoever."

-------------------------------------

Crying awoke Rhaenyra that night. Harwin had returned to his own chambers through the secret passageways she had shown him, so as not to get caught by one of Rhaenyra's maids. 

Sighing, she rose, making her way towards the nursery.

"What is it, my love-" she stopped short as the figure in front of her turned. 

His knife was pointed at the squalling babe in front of him.

Rhaenyra screamed as the figure lunged.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra stepped to the side as the figure made to stab her in the chest. The cloaked man stumbled into a bookcase, giving Rhaenyra a chance to grab a still screaming Alyssa from her cradle and bolt out the door.

Guards from every corner of the Keep were there in an instant, having heard her scream. "Princess!" Ser Harold gasped, pushing her behind him. "What has happened?"

"He was going to murder Alyssa," she sobbed. "The man he-he had a knife."

Harold and his men swarmed the nursery as Ser Arryk led her to the King's chamber. 

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys cried upon seeing her. "Are you alright?" She let him embrace her, feeling safe in the comforts of a father's arms.

Rhaenyra pulled back first. "An intruder," she told him. "He had a knife, aimed for my daughter."

"Treason!" her father roared. She had never seen him so furious. "This man you speak of shall be hanged! Beheaded! Drawn and quartered in the streets for all to see!"

Alyssa, now calmed in her mother's arms, yawned and fell back into sleep. Rhaenyra collapsed onto a couch by the fire as the doors opened and the rest of her children, including Laenor, came flooding in.

"Muña!" Baelon cried, fat tears rolling down his cheek. "Are you ok?"

Rhaenyra kissed his silver curls as he pulled himself up next to her. "I am alright, sweet boy."

Aegon drew his brows together in concern. "Who did this, muña?"

There it was again. Mother. She didn't care, of course. Her siblings had slowly gone from strangers to children of her own. Her family.

"I do not know," she shook her head. "But it wasn't me he was going for. It was Alyssa."

The children all gasped, and Laenor paced around the room. "I will tear this man apart!" he declared.

"You'll have to wait your turn," Viserys seethed, pouring wine for himself and the other adults.

Alicent Hightower emerged from her adjoined chambers a moment later, looking disheveled. "Are you alright?" she asked her children, completely ignoring Rhaenyra and her family.

Aegon stepped closer to Rhaenyra. "We are all fine, your grace."

Aemond dropped onto the couch. He had been rushed out of bed, meaning that there had been no time for him to put his eyepatch on. His scar, now a smooth line from his brow to his cheek, glowed in the candlelight. "Why would someone want to hurt Alyssa?"

Rhaenyra rubbed his shoulder, noting the way Alicent's jaw clenched. "I don't know, valonquar. Someone with a cruel heart."

Helaena opted instead to sit in the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. Aegon sat next to her, a comforting arm around her shoulders. Baela and Rhaena curled up next to each other on a chair, and Baelon held onto Rhaena's hand.

They sat like that until Ser Harold entered, followed by Otto Hightower. Viserys was in front of him in an instant. "Well?"

Otto glanced at the Lord Commander, who spoke. "Before we could apprehend the assassin, he jumped from the tower to his death."

Alicent's hand flew to her mouth, and Aemon nestled closer to his mother's side.

Viserys sighed. "Retrieve his corpse. I want his head up on a spike in the streets, so that anyone who dares make a move against the heir knows that their fate will match his."

Rhaenyra had to smile. 

It seemed the dragon had been awoken.

------------------------------------

She found Harwin in her chambers when she returned for the night. Upon seeing her, he raced forward, pulling her into an embrace. "I heard there was an attack," he breathed. "I feared the worst."

Rhaenyra cupped his face with her hand. "Do not fear, my love. I am safe, so is Alyssa." She presented her babe as proof, still asleep against her mother's chest.

He kissed her then. "I want to gut that man like a fish."

"My father has already declared his head is to be spiked in the streets."

"Your father is wise."

There was a knock on the door. Rhaenyra turned her head sharply. "I'm so sorry, my love, but you must go."

Harwin pressed a kiss to her hand. "I will see you tomorrow."

She smiled as he crept into the passageway.

Aemon peered into the room, his silver hair shining in the moonlight. "Mama, can we stay in here tonight?"

Rhaenyra raised a brow. "Of course, my love. But who is we?"

Her son pushed the door open, revealing Baelon, Gaemon, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Baela, and Rhaena. Gaemon held onto Aegon's hand, a thumb in his mouth and his favorite blanket tossed over his shoulder.

She blinked. "I-Alright, but it will be a tight fit."

The children all smiled and jumped up onto her massive bed. Aegon made his bed on the long couch by the fire, citing his age and "maturity." Alyssa's cradle was brought in from the nursery, and was placed at the end of the bed, for her mother to see.

Gaemon curled into her side, Baelon the other. Aemon lay next to his brother, with Helaena on the end. Baela, Rhaena, and Aemond all took Gaemon's side, seeing as he was the smallest and could fit more people. 

Rhaenyra listened to the sound of nine children breathing. Moments like these made her long for her own mother. Aemma would have adored her grandchildren, Rhaenyra knew. They would have been spoiled rotten by their grandmother, just as Rhaenyra was in her youth.

She ran her fingers through Baelon's curls, her own mind drifting off into sleep, where no cloaked figures haunted her, no vipers in green whispered about her in the halls, and everyone was safe and happy.

And in the midst of it all, her mother rocked Alyssa in her arms, beckoning her daughter forward.

Chapter Text

The attack on Alyssa spurred Rhaenyra into action.

"We're leaving," she announced the morning after, during breakfast. "It is time for us to go back to Dragonstone."

Aegon spooned his eggs, trying to hide his smile. He'd been longing to go home since they got to King's Landing. The queen's behavior ever since their arrival didn't help his opinion of the Red Keep.

So there they were, being sent off by the king and his guard. Queen Alicent tried to embrace her children, but he, Aemond, and Helaena all grouped together behind Rhaenyra, hiding. It was childish, but Aegon didn't really want his mother to hug him.

Sunfyre seemed just as eager to leave as he was. The golden dragon was impatient to take to the skies, especially when he realized that his rider was taking Gaemon with him. Aegon had offered Laenor a reprieve from carrying the little prince with him, to which he had agreed.

"Kepus," Gaemon frowned as they lifted into the air, "why is your mama mean to my mama?"

Aegon opened his mouth, then closed it. "I...don't know, Gaemon." He didn't really want to explain the story to his something-year-old nephew.

They landed in Dragonstone that afternoon, where Maester Gerardys had gathered the staff and servants to greet their princess. Rhaenyra took the lead, as she always did, with Alyssa strapped to her chest.

"Princess," Gerardys greeted, taking her hands in his. "We received word on the attack. A horrid, horrid thing, truly. I pray you and the Princess Alyssa are well."

Rhaenyra smiled at the old man. "Thank you, maester. The princess and I are unscathed, thankfully."

They entered Dragonstone and dined on lamb and sweets that night. Later in the evening, Aegon approached his sister in her study, where she seemed to be pouring over a book in High Valyrian.

She looked up upon him entering and smiled. His mother never did that when she saw him, she always frowned. "What is it, valonquar?"

Aegon swallowed. "I-I wished to speak to you regarding my...marriage."

His sister set her book aside and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. "What about it? Do you have someone in mind?"

He shook his head. "Nobody at all, actually. That is why I wanted to speak to you. I...I don't want...to be married. If that is alright?"

Rhaenyra took his hands. Hers were soft but calloused. "Aegon, it is alright if you do not want to marry. I'm sure no one would begrudge you."

"The queen would."

She frowned. "The queen has no power here, valonquar. If she wants you married, she has to gain permission from the king, and even then I am still your guardian."

He nodded. "You are right."

"If I may, why is it you do not want to marry?"

Aegon thought long and hard. "I know what the queen wants...what my grandsire wants. For me to be the heir. But I don't want to be heir, and if I don't marry, then I will have no children to further my claim."

Rhaenyra moved around the table to crouch in front of him. "Oh, Aegon. You may still marry, despite what your mother and grandfather think. I am here to protect you, and whilst you are under my care you can always choose a bride of your own."

"Thank you, sister, but for now I think I am contented the way I am."

She stood. "Very well. I accept your decision, Aegon, as I do all of your decisions."

He smiled at her. Sometimes, Rhaenyra felt more like his real mother. They even looked the same, as compared to the queen's auburn locks.

Rhaenyra flipped open her book. "Prince Qoren Martell and his lady wife are set to visit us on the morrow. If I were to make a suggestion for dinner tomorrow night, I'd say wear a bunch of oranges."

Aegon frowned. "But orange washes out my pallor."

"But it looks so lovely with your hair."

"We have the same hair."

"I said what I said."

--------------------------------------------

Prince Qoren and Lady Meria arrived to Dragonstone just as planned. And with three special guests in tow.

"My daughter and heir, the Princess Aliandra," Qoren announced proudly. "As well as my other children, the Princess Coryanne, and Prince Qyle."

The children curtsied, though Rhaenyra could see the way Aliandra, who was Gaemon's age, giggled when she was introduced to the youngest prince. Qyle was shy, as a boy of merely two, while Coryanne was outlandish, spouting stories that obviously did not happen, and making japes that had Rhaena turning red.

"How old is your girl?" Rhaenyra asked Meria at dinner.

The Lady of Dorne sighed. "Three, princess."

"Gods."

"Tell me about it."

Gaemon and Aliandra were quite the pair, running around with their mock dragons and playing Conquerors with Coryanne, who demanded she be Visenya. Aliandra played the part of Aegon, however, leaving Gaemon quite contented as the pretty Rhaenys. He went about flipping his curls and speaking in a high voice that had Baela and Aemond dissolving into giggles.

They were joined later in the evening by none other than the Rogue Prince.

"Kepa!" Rhaena squealed upon seeing her father, jumping into his arms. 

Daemon spun her around. "How are you, sweet girl?"

Rhaena wrapped her arms around him as Baela bounced forward. "I claimed Grey, kepa!"

He frowned, confused, as Baela flew at her father, prompting him to pick both girls up. "Who is Grey?"

Rhaenyra bit her lip and stepped forward. "Grey Ghost, kepus. Rhaena claimed him a few weeks ago."

Daemon's lips broke into a broad smile, and he pulled both girls close. "I am so proud of you both."

Rhaena nestled into the crook of his neck. "Thank you, kepa."

Once the children were all asleep, the adults broke into the wine.

Meria sipped her glass, curling her feet into her side on the couch. "Arbor Gold is the way to go."

Daemon shook his head. "I'm afraid I must disagree. Essosi wine is the finest you'll ever taste."

Laenor sighed, dropping his head back against his chair. "Wine is wine, who cares?"

Qoren chuckled and raised his glass. "Ser Laenor speakes true!"

Rhaenyra took a swig from her own glass. "I see Gaemon and Aliandra have gotten along well."

The Prince of Dorne nodded. "You know, if the prince is in lack of a bride, which I highly doubt given his undeniable charm, Aliandra is next in line to the Dornish throne."

Rhaenyra and her husband looked to one another. "Such a marriage would warrant bringing Dorne into the Realm," she reminded him.

Qoren shrugged. "Dorne has long been apart with its sister lands. It is high time we remedy that."

"That is...a generous proposal."

Laenor looked to her and nodded once in approval.

"Very well. We accept."

Meria took her hands. "Thank you, princess. The marriage would not take place for some time, of course."

Rhaenyra squeezed back, reveling in the heat of the crackling fire.

Daemon sipped his wine. "I understand Rhaena is to wed Baelon...but what of Baela?"

The princess leaned back. "Aegon has spoken of his desire to remain unwed. Meaning that it is possible to wed Baela to Aemond. They are friendly with one another, and would make a handsome couple.

"I see. But he is Alicent Hightower's son."

Rhaenyra shook her head. "That woman does not deserve to call herself a mother. No, Aemond is my brother, my blood. He is a good boy, and Baela would be happy with him. They share the same...fire."

Daemon nodded. "You speak wisely, princess. I hear my own father in you."

She smiled. "Thank you, kepus."

They drank in silence.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra stepped down from the carriage as she and her family were announced. 

"What in the Seven Hells," Laenor muttered from next to her.

She was half-inclined to echo that statement.  The dragon memorabilia that had decorated the Red Keep for over one hundred years had been replaced by a Seven-Pointed-Star. 

"Who let this happen?" she asked Ser Harold as the children all clamored out of the carriage.

The knight sighed. "The Hand claimed that Her Grace was to be let out of her chambers on behalf of the king. First thing she did was get it changed. I tried to advise against it, princess, but her lapdog Cole told me to shut my mouth."

She nearly gasped. "You are his Lord Commander."

"And he is the queen's shield."

Aegon whistled as he stood next to his sister. "She did a number on this place."

Aemon snorted. "More than a number, uncle. She did a whole equation."

"Very funny," Baela muttered under her breath.

"Why thank you, my lady," Aemon winked.

She merely scoffed and looped her arm in Helaena's.

Rhaenyra braced a hand on her hip. "Why did my children have to grow up?"

Aemon looked affronted while Baelon snickered into his hand.

Alyssa toddled over to her mother's side and took her hand. "It's scary, mama."

Rhaenyra brushed her daughter's silver hair out of her face. "I know, sweetling. We'll be gone soon, though."

With enough time for the babe to be born, she thought with a smile and brushed her thumb over her slightly swollen belly. This child was Laenor's, she knew that. Harwin had recently returned from Harrenhal when she'd found out, and had been delighted for her.

"It reeks of Hightower," her knight whispered in her ear as they were led to their chambers.

Rhaenyra stifled a look of disgust as more symbols of the Faith appeared. "Indeed it does, ser." 

Harwin's lip curled, as if the sight was an unpleasant smell he did not like.

After everyone had found their rooms, the family convened in Rhaenyra's chambers. Alyssa and Gaemon sat on the bed, playing with their toys while the older ones talked. "Alright," she started once the children had sat, "I have kept the reasoning behind our arrival a secret, but I am afraid I must tell you now."

Aemond crossed an ankle over a leg. "It can't be that bad."

"Lord Corlys has taken ill from an injury garnered in the Stepstones. The maesters are skeptical in terms of his survival. Ser Vaemond is petitioning the Crown to change the Driftmark succession in his brother's absence."

The prince blinked. "In favor of whom?"

"Himself, of course."

Rhaena braced her hands on the back of the chair Baelon sat in. "But Ser Laenor is the heir."

Rhaenyra nodded. "You are right. I fear the Hand and the Queen have...persuaded Ser Vaemond to petition, and will use this chance to disinherit Laenor in favor of one of their own."

Aegon huffed out a breath. "Nobody really buys this, do they? He can't disinherit the son of the Sea Snake, it is ridiculous!"

Laenor pushed off of the bedpost he was leaning against. "It doesn't matter what they think, or if it is ridiculous. Otto Hightower sits as Regent, meaning he holds all power in this scenario. Should my father's illness prove...fateful, having my uncle as Lord of the Tides would be huge for the Greens." He bit his lip. "The queen would most likely bring my...preferences into account, and would try to claim that my children are not really my children. That compared to Vaemond with his abundance of heirs would not bode well if it were true."

"But it would all be for nothing," Aegon argued. "I have no desire for the throne, giving the queen no real reason to try and win supporters."

"Try telling her that," Helaena mumbled. Over the years, she had grown more confident, and unafraid to speak when she had visions, or an opinion to share. That was very much due to Rhaenyra's influence, but she didn't want to take any credit.

A knock on the door sounded, and nearly a dozen pairs of lilac eyes-including a pair of brown ones-turned to watch Alicent Hightower saunter into the room.

The queen smiled tightly. "Welcome, princess. It has been so long since we were granted the...joy of your presence."

Aegon scoffed. Rhaenyra put a gentle hand on his shoulder, prompting him to stay silent. "I must admit, your grace, that I am confused as to why we are here."

"Oh?"

"My husband is the successor to Driftmark, not Ser Vaemond."

"He has made his petition, and we must hear it."

Aemond stood. "A rather idiotic petition, if you ask me."

Alicent froze upon seeing her youngest all grown up. "You-you've all gotten so big."

Helaena leaned against the table and Aegon folded his arms against his chest. Rhaenyra stepped forward. "Lord Corlys has made his succession clear."

The queen quickly recovered from her shock. "But Lord Corlys is not the Crown. Should he die, we-I mean the Crown has the power to change the succession."

Rhaenyra scoffed. "Let me guess, it was my father's will that Ser Vaemond be heard out?"

"Indeed."

"And how did he convey such a message? Through blinks and wheezes?"

The queen opened her mouth.

"Come now, your grace," Rhaenyra smirked, echoing the words she'd said all those years ago, "the gaping fish look isn't flattering on you."

Aemon covered his snicker with a cough.

Alicent stiffened. "I am the queen, and I will sit in judgement of Ser Vaemond's petition!"

"No need to yell, your grace," Aegon said snarkily.

"Hush!" Alicent barked out.

Rhaenyra felt her whole body tense. Even with a baby growing in her, she wouldn't hesitate to rock Alicent Hightower's shit. "You are the queen, but you may not speak to Prince Aegon like that."

"I am his mother."

Helaena, Aemond, and Aegon all scoffed at the same time.

Alicent clenched her jaw. "The hearing is tomorrow."

She swept out of the room.

"What a viper," Baela muttered, picking at her cuticles.

Helaena shrugged. "You get used to it after a time."

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra stared into the mirror, feeling the dragon inside of her awaken. 

She dressed in a gown of pure silver, with draping sleeves and scales that lined the shoulders to the bodice. Her silver hair was pulled into a bun behind her head, and she wore a simple circlet with a ruby in the middle, to remind the Hightower's of her long heritage.

Rhaenyra stroked her belly, and the babe that lay inside. "Let us go out for blood," she said.

Alyssa and Gaemon stayed withe Elinda while the rest of the family surged to the throne room. They were all clothed in shades of black and silver, a matching group. Baelon gulped down deep breaths from behind her, and Rhaenyra found herself taking his hand. Her sweet boy got nervous in these types of situations, so she did her best to comfort him.

Otto Hightower was seated on the Iron Throne when they entered, a flimsy attempt at trying to scare them. Ser Vaemond outright glared, but there was fear in his eyes when he saw House Targaryen united as one. Alicent stood all alone next to the throne, as she always had.

A crowd had gathered to witness to show, most of them being lords of minor houses. But Borros Baratheon had deigned to come, and from where he stood, his alliances were with the Targaryen's.

"Ser Vaemond," Otto said snootily, "you may plead your case before the Crown."

"The Crown," Aegon scoffed, and Aemon chuckled right along with him.

Vaemond arrogantly stepped forward. "The lineage of House Velaryon traces back all the way to Old Valyria. We are kin with House Targaryen, the water to their flames. I believe as Lord Corlys's brother, that kinmanship, that duty, should pass to me. My dear nephew is set to be King Consort, meaning Driftmark would pass to my nephew, Prince Baelon, a young and inexperienced boy. The title would better suit me, the elder."

Otto nodded, trying to pretend that his mind had not already been made up. "Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, as wife and mother to both claimants on your side, you may speak on behalf of Ser Laenor."

Rhaenyra glared at the old man with such fire that he leaned back in his seat. She half hoped one of the swords would impale him upon impact.

"The dragon is here," Helaena gasped, grabbing onto Aemon's arm. "The weary dragon has come."

"Who?" Aemon asked.

Rhaenyra moved to the center of the room and clasped her hands together. "Ser Vaemond speaks of lineage, yet he seeks to undermine a lineage that has existed-"

The doors opened.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Rhaenyra felt as if a weight had left her body. 

Especially as Daemon came sauntering in behind his brother, a hand on Dark Sister and a glint in his eye. 

Viserys trekked slowly to the throne, a mask of gold hiding half of his face, and huffed as he finally sat in it. "I do not understand...why we are debating an already settled succession."

That was when Princess Rhaenys emerged from the crowd, her blue coat having blended in with the other lords. "Indeed it has, your grace," she said with a smile to Rhaenyra.

All the children looked to the princess, who still stood in the center of the room. "Thank you, princess. It seems Lord Corlys has found the strength to give his seal declaring my husband, Ser Laenor, his rightful heir should he die before my own ascension. If not, the lands and titles of Driftmark shall pass to my son, Prince Baelon Velaryon."

Princess Rhaenys presented the letter and handed it off to Daemon, who in turn practically rubbed it under Otto Hightower's nose. The Hand sighed grimly as he beheld what was written in it.

"The princess speaks true," he admitted.

Baelon let out a sigh of relief, and Aemond gave his nephew a cheerful pat on the back. Though with his strength, it sent the poor boy into a fit of coughing.

"Then the matter is settled," Viserys declared.

Rhaenyra smiled as her husband pressed a kiss to her hand. "Thank you, Nyra."

She gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. "I would do it no matter what, Laenor." She then looked to Harwin, who grinned proudly in the back.

Vaemond Velaryon stepped forward. "I will not have centuries of tradition undone by some false letter that bears my brother's seal!"

Viserys leaned forward in his seat. "I'm afraid that is not your choice, ser."

"Oh, but it is. I will not let this house suffer ruin thanks to this-" he stopped.

Rhaenyra felt her brothers, husband, and sons all stiffen. Baela herself clenched the dagger she kept strapped to her waist, a gift from her father.

"Say it," Daemon taunted in a voice like death.

Vaemond smirked. "She is a whore!" he screamed. "A harlot better off in the streets of King's Landing then on the Iron Throne."

Viserys stood. "I...will have your tongue for that."

Daemon surged forward, as if to do just that. 

But Vaemond's head was already gone.

Aemond stood behind the corpse of Ser Vaemond Velaryon, blood coating his sword. The prince faced the crowd. "Let this be a lesson that the next person to speak ill of my sister will lose a lot more than a tongue."

He returned to his place next to Rhaenyra, who squeezed his hand in a silent thank you.

"You'd do it for me," he whispered.

"Should've taken his tongue first," Baela nudged his arm.

He snorted.

---------------------------------

That night, the family dined together in Rhaenyra's room. Princess Rhaenys joined them, as did Daemon. Rhaenyra had sent word of Vaemond's petition to both of them, begging their aid. Daemon had gone to fetch Viserys while the Greens were distracted, and Rhaenys had gotten her husband's seal before departing.

Rhaenyra stood, raising her cup. "To family. Sometimes, it feels like I have ten children instead of four."

"Ten?" Laenor asked. "There are nine children in total."

"Yes, I was counting you."

The table burst into laughter.

Then, it was Aemond's turn to stand. "To Ser Vaemond Velaryon, may his soul rest easy in whichever hell he is in."

"Hear!" Baela declared.

"And may he have his tongue with him!" Aemon joked.

Rhaenyra laughed. Family. That was what they were.

All that was missing was her mother.

Chapter Text

Alicent stood with a stony expression on her face as Viserys held court. The old man had refused to die during the night, and had even found the strength to be carted into the throne room the very next day. He sat at the base of the throne, in a chair of simple wood, surveying the crowd.

Rhaenyra strutted about like a peacock, flaunting her slightly swollen belly and her abundance of heirs. Ser Harwin, an ever present nuisance at his charge's side, eyed the queen warily, almost suspiciously. The children all flitted about, talking to this lord or that lady. Alicent could hardly look Aemond in the eye after the events of the day before. But her son had hardly spared her a glance since is arrival.

The princess's black gown was deep cut, fashionable for the time. Alicent grinned smugly as she smoothed down the skirts of her own green gown, with its modest neckline and tight sleeves. She would never disrespect the Faith by dressing like a whore from the Streets of Silk.

Ser Harold announced the king's will to speak, and the court immediately went quiet. The aging king huffed, but finally got to the point. "I believe that it is high time for celebration...to warm these halls. For to long we have lived in bleak shadows, with nothing to fill our empty days. No more...I say." He looked to Rhaenyra. "My grandson, Prince Aemon, will wed my daughter, the Princess Helaena, at spring's end."

Alicent felt her heart stop. Spring's end was in two weeks. 

She glanced at her father, who stared in open-mouthed shock at the king. Otto had long been whispering in the king's ear, advising him to wait until Aemon and Helaena were old enough, anything to stall a marriage that would bring down everything they'd worked for.

Criston Cole was furious. "I'll kill that old fool," he growled.

Alicent turned to him. "That old fool is the king. If you kill him, your head will be on a spike before the day's end." Gods knew Rhaenyra would see to that. Alicent half wondered how long the king would be dead before her own head was propped up on the streets of King's Landing.

Rhaenyra spoke gently to both Helaena and Aemon, though what she said, Alicent couldn't hear. From the way Helaena smiled, it was something positive. The princess thanked her father, and left with her family.

Her family. Alicent's own children had become Rhaenyra's family.

-------------------------------------------

Pearls glittered around the bodice of the dress, and a beautiful veil of white silk encased the bride.

"You look beautiful," Rhaenyra told her sister as she fastened a silver tiara on her head.

Helaena smiled brightly at her reflection. "I feel beautiful. Is that...okay?"

She kissed her cheek. "Of course it is, sister. And it is true, you make the most stunning bride."

Baela, gowned in a pale blue that made her silver hair shine, peeked out the door. "It's time."

Rhaenyra took a deep breath and let Helaena loop her arm through her sister's. Baela went first out the door, followed by Rhaena. They were escorted by Ser Arryk, who sheepishly told Helaena that she looked very pretty.

Gods, her children were getting married! Rhaenyra felt old at the thought, though she was only four and thirty.

Laenor met them at the doors to the throne room, looking handsome in red and black, matching Rhaenyra's gown, with its golden dragon that curved up the back of the dress. He took Helaena's arm in his as the doors opened.

Golden candlelight shimmered in the throne room. It appeared as if the whole kingdom had packed into the space. House Velaryon looked regal in blue, Ser Vaemond's death utterly forgotten on them, except for a few who glowered in their direction. House Hightower was stiff, each member bearing a sour look on their faces. They were all clad in green, of course, in a flimsy attempt at showing their support for Alicent.

Viserys and his queen stood at the dais of the throne. Or, well, Alicent stood, while the king sat in his chair. The queen wore a somber black gown with a matching veil. Some might have thought she was honoring House Targaryen with her choice in colors, but Rhaenyra knew the truth of it.

She was in mourning.

Rhaenyra nearly began crying as she beheld her son. He looked so grown up in his black tunic and trousers, with gold detailing and a ruby encrusted sword at his belt. Aemon looked every inch a king.

They were at the dais before she could grasp her bearings, leaving Laenor to hand off Helaena to her groom to be. Rhaenyra kissed both her children on the cheek and went to stand by the others. 

"She looks so pretty," Alyssa said.

"Like a princess," Gaemon agreed.

The two said their vows under the watch of the High Septon. Helaena and Aemon had opted to ditch the maiden cloak, seeing as they were both from the same house and it made no sense. The ceremony went much quicker without it, and when the pair had sealed the marriage with a kiss, nearly half of the room was sobbing.

Aemon found his mother first and accepted her embrace. "I love you, muña."

She kissed the top of his head. "Avy jorrāelan tolī, tresy."

Helaena was next, and the poor girl had tears in her eyes. "Thank you, mother." She pulled back, eyes wide with fear. "I-I am sorry, I didn't mean too-"

Rhaenyra just about squashed her with a hug. "Of course, tala."

The dancing commenced after that. Baelon was first to the floor, with Rhaena by his side. Aemond dutifully danced with Baela, though neither of them possessed much talent for the skill.

"Princess," Laenor winked, holding out a hand.

Rhaenyra smiled. "Why of course, my noble knight."

They whirled about the room, outdoing everyone in sight. Laenor sighed contentedly as Aemon dipped Helaena. "We did good, didn't we."

She nodded and kissed his cheek. "We did good."

After an hour of dancing with her husband, she sneakily made a round with Harwin.

"The children look happy," he noted.

Rhaenyra watched her sons, Aegon and Aemond included, move about the room, mock dancing with one another. "That is all I want."

"Nyra," he said to her, a broad smile on his face. "You are a wonderful mother."

She could have kissed him right then and there. "I know, Harwin."

He laughed and flicked her on the nose. She returned the favor. Harder.

Chapter Text

Deana pulled back from the body of the king, a scream making its way out of her throat.

He was dead. 

King Viserys was dead.

But just the other night at dinner, he was healthy. Or, as healthy as a man of his...being could get. He joked with his family, laughed when someone said a particularly funny one. What had happened?

Talya, Queen Alicent's personal maid, burst in, followed by Ser Cole. "What is it?" the knight demanded, his sword already out.

Deana felt her lower lip quiver as she pointed. "He-he is...was...he's dead."

Cole rushed forward and checked the king's pulse. When it came up empty, he stared at the floor, grimly. "I must tell the queen."

"Queen Rhaenyra?" she asked hopefully.

He stared at her as if the notion were absolutely ridiculous. "Queen Alicent, you foolish wench. She is now the Queen Mother."

Talya and Deana shared a look as the knight swept out of the room.

"We must go," Talya said. "Rhaenyra must know."

Deana followed Cole to the queen's chambers, where he must have just been breaking the news. Queen Alicent dropped into her chair, a hand to her mouth. The years had not been kind on the queen, and at the age of merely thirty-four, lines marred her face, and grey hairs peeked through her auburn curls.

The queen bowed her head. "Very well. I will go find King Aegon."

King.

Deana turned to Talya in fury. "That bitch!" she hissed.

"I know," the other maid said, "but we mustn't give away our position."

Deana watched Ser Cole summon a few guards loyal to the Hightowers. Mainly kin to the queen, but loyal all the same.

"Find the Princess Rhaenyra," he ordered. "And her children."

"What will we do with them, ser?" one asked.

Cole faced Alicent. "Throw them in the dungeons. Leave King Aegon and his siblings be."

Some of the men bristled. "The dungeons, ser?" the same man as before asked. "But, the princess is with child."

"Then be gentle! I do not give a fuck!"

Deana hoisted up her skirts and ran.

-------------------------------

Helaena was playing in the gardens with Gaemon when the sound of boots hit her. 

The blood soaked knight will try to tame the dragon.

She'd had the dream the knight of her wedding. Aemon had listened carefully, and had tried to discern what it could mean.

Now they knew.

"Gaemon," she called for her nephew, who loyally bounced to her side. She hoisted him into her arms as Ser Cole and his men approached.

"Princess," he bowed. "I am here to escort you to your mother."

She frowned. "So he is dead?"

Cole gaped. "Who-I-"

So her father was dead. "Does the queen know?"

"Yes, your mother knows."

Helaena shook her head. "I mean, does Queen Rhaenyra know?"

Cole clenched his jaw. "By tradition King Aegon rules the Realm." He eyed Gaemon with an upturned nose. "I am also here to take Prince Gaemon."

"Where?"

"I'm afraid that does not concern you, princess."

She stepped back, and Cole's men stepped with her. Gaemon whimpered and clung tighter to her neck. "He is my brother, it does concern me."

"Prince Gaemon is your nephew, princess."

"Queen Rhaenyra treated me like one of her own. He is a brother on my eyes."

"Princess," the knight corrected. "She remains Princess Rhaenyra."

Helaena lifted her chin. "You will not take him. If my brother truly is king, then he will not want any of his kin harmed."

Cole made to snatch Gaemon from her arms.

Helaena ran. 

She could hear the sound of a dozen knights racing to catch up, but their heavy armor prevented much movement. Gaemon was a smart boy and tightened his arms around her, so she wouldn't have to keep readjusting him.

Ser Harold and Ser Arryk guarded Rhaenyra's chambers, and both men drew their swords upon seeing the frightened princess. "What is it?" Arryk asked.

Helaena pushed open the door. "The king is dead! The queen and Ser Cole are trying to usurp Rhaenyra!"

The spurred them into action. The two men raced around the corner, with Ser Erryk, who had heard her shouts, following close behind.

Rhaenyra stood from her chair, Ser Harwin, Laenor, and her brother's doing the same. Aemon rushed to her side, cupping her cheeks and checking to see if she was alright.

"He is dead," Helena gasped, tears streaming down her face. "Father he-he is gone, Rhaenyra."

Her sister blinked, and Ser Harwin put a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Ser Cole tried to take Gaemon," Helaena revealed. "And the queen, she said Aegon was king."

Aegon retrieved his sword and marched out the door, Aemond hot on his heels.

"I'll kill him," Harwin seethed, drawing his own blade. Aemon kissed Helaena once and joined the man. Gods, she didn't want her husband to die only two days after they were wed.

"Let me do the honors," Ser Laenor agreed, flicking his dagger from his belt.

The men raced out the door, and Gaemon wiggled his way out of Helaena's arms to go to his mother. Rhaenyra embraced the boy, but there was a fire in her eyes Helaena had seen only a few times before.

"Let us be rid of Criston Cole once and for all," she seethed. 

Alyssa bounced off the bed. "I can find the twins," Helaena offered, taking the girl's hand.

"Go do that," Rhaenyra said as twin tears trailed down her cheeks.

No, there was no time for hysterics.

The dragon was awake, and Seven save whoever cam in contact with her.

Chapter Text

Blood. 

So much blood.

Hightower men lay either dead or dying on the ground, twitching in agony or still in silence.

And Rhaenyra did not give a fuck.

Criston Cole was being restrained by Aemond and Harwin, with Laenor holding a blade to the knight's throat. "Whore," Criston spat, followed by a sharp slap to the face from Aemond.

Rhaenyra stared at him, unfeeling. "Where is Alicent."

"You will not get an answer from me."

She turned to Aegon. "Would you be so kind as to cut out his tongue?"

Aegon smirked. "Gladly."

Cristo paled. "Wait! She is in her rooms!" 

Rhaenyra swept past him, to where Ser Harold and Ser Arryk stood. "With me," she said sternly, and they both fell in line. They were joined by Ser Erryk, Ser Thorne, and Ser Darklyn. Together, the queen and her Queensguard went to confront the Hightower bitch.

Alicent stood sharply as the door was thrown open. "What is the-" 

She froze.

Rhaenyra looked to the door that separated Alicent's chambers from the king's.

"Ser Harold," she said to the knight, "please escort her to the dungeons. Her father will join shortly."

Alicent stepped back, a sheep caught in the fire. "Please, Rhaenyra. Do not do this, the king-"

"Is dead. And you tried to usurp his rightful heir."

"Aegon is the rightful king."

Rhaenyra stalked forward. "Speak those words again, and your tongue will mount the walls of my chamber."

That silenced her.

Ser Harold and Ser Arryk took Alicent by the arms and dragged her out of the room. 

Harwin joined her in the Dowager Queen's chambers, watching her gently. "Are you alright?" he asked, setting a gentle hand on her arm.

She closed her eyes and felt tears trickle down her face. "He's gone."

He folded her in his arms as she wept. For her father, for her mother, Laena, for everyone. Harwin kissed her head. "I can get the Silent Sisters, Nyra."

Rhaenyra nodded. "Yes...you can do that."

Harwin caressed her face. "You are safe, Rhaenyra. They can't hurt you anymore."

The words comforted her. She was safe, and Alicent couldn't hurt her anymore.

Aegon and Aemond marched into the room together, Helaena and Aemon trailing behind. "Is she...gone?" Helaena asked warily as Aemon put an arm around her.

Rhaenyra took a shuddering breath. "She's in the dungeons."

"Good," Aegon said unflinchingly. 

Aemon bit his lip. "Mother, you are queen now. You can pass judgement on them."

He was right.

It was time for her to claim her throne.

Chapter Text

Alicent kneeled in front of the Iron Throne next to her father and Criston Cole. 

Rhaenyra sat the throne, Aegon's throne, and looked at them as if they were nothing, had always been nothing.

"I demand a trial!" Otto demanded, grasping at anything that would buy them time.

The queen clasped her hands in front of her. "You sought to usurp a throne that was mine by rights, yet you insist a trail? you are a fool, Otto Hightower, and have always been a fool."

Otto fumed. "Aegon is king by law! You are stealing! This is treason!"

Aemond stepped forward and pressed his sword to Otto's mouth. "Speak another word and you'll never speak again," he threatened in a voice like ice.

Alicent stared at her youngest son. "Aemond...how could you?"

"I follow my queen. My mother."

It was like being slapped in the face.

Cole fumed. "I wish to take the black."

Rhaenyra tutted. "You don't get that option. No, your sworn brothers have other plans in mind for you."

Criston turned, white as a ghost, to see the rest of the Kingsguard staring at him with venom in their eyes.

Rhaenyra stood. "As for you, Alicent. I'm afraid you don't get an execution."

Relief swept through her. "Thank you, princess."

That was the wrong thing to say. Rhaenyra's eyes hardened, and she descended the throne. "You will be kept in your chambers until the day you die. You will be accompanied by no one but your septa, a maid, and your thoughts."

Alicent felt her blood run cold. "My children-"

She heard footsteps, and found Aegon staring down at her. "We are not you children, Alicent. We stopped being your children the day you tried to kill Alyssa."

Fuck. "You-how did you know?"

Rhaenyra laughed humorously. "Do you take me for a fool? Only one person would benefit in the loss of one of my heirs."

Otto spat. "You have no proof."

"I am the queen. I need no proof."

The men wisely kept their mouths shut.

------------------------------------

Rhaenyra stood at the base of the dais, a black veil fluttering around her head.

Ravens had been sent out a day earlier, informing the Realm of their king's death, and the treason committed by the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and Ser Cole. Lords Tully, Costayne, Ball, and the Evenstar of Tarth had arrived to swear their fealty. Lords Baratheon and Tyrell were riding out that day, with many more to follow.

Otto Hightower and Criston Cole stood, bound at the wrists. Ser Harold stood behind both men, his sword in hand. Daemon stood to his left, a hand on Dark Sister. He had begged the honor of the execution, to which Rhaenyra had gleefully agreed.

"I, Rhaenyra Targaryen," she began, "First of My Name, hereby sentence Ser Otto of House Hightower, and Ser Criston Cole, to death."

Cole stepped forward first, tear streaks on his face. 

How sad.

Rhaenyra sucked in a breath as Ser Harold pushed the man to his knees. "You have dishonored us all," he declared, raising his blade.

Criston's head was gone in one swing. 

At her side, Laenor squeezed her hand. "Breathe," he told her, though he was the one shaking.

Then it was Otto's turn. 

The man had nothing to say for once in his life. Daemon stepped forward with a smirk, shoving him down.

"There is only death for traitors," the prince said. "Burn in hell."

And Otto Hightower was no more.

Rhaenyra looked back at the Red Keep just in time to see a head of auburn turn away from her window.

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra pushed, blood already coating the bed. 

All this loss, this pain, yet her little babe had persisted. 

"You are so brave," Harwin said, kissing her palm. "You must be brave a little longer."

She wanted to cry. This would be her last child, she knew it. She and Laenor had talked about it numerous times, but she was done. Her mother had died after being forced to have child after child, and Rhaenyra would not be subjected to that fate. 

The queen pushed, a great heave that had her screaming so loud she worried the Keep would collapse.

Then the babe began squalling.

"It's a girl!" Elinda Massey gasped.

Rhaenyra felt tears sliding down her cheeks. At her other side, Laenor took his new daughter. "She's perfect, Nyra."

Her daughter was tiny and purple eyed and beautiful. She had Laenor's complexion, as well as his hair. Rhaenyra loved her already, as a mother was supposed to do. 

"What shall we name her?" Laenor asked.

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. "Viserra. Her name is Viserra Targaryen."

---------------------------------

Aegon smiled as his older sister presented her daughter to the court.

Viserra. After their father. He quite liked that name.

Next to him, Helaena cheered, her own belly swollen. Aegon would be an uncle soon, and Aemon a father.

Aemond and Baela whistled and clapped, both donning matching black leathers. They had gone flying that morning, together on their dragons. Rhaena had joined, as had Baelon. They would be married soon, and had been spending every hour with each other.

After court had ended, the family stood together in the throne room, House Targaryen united.

"She's very quiet," Rhaenyra remarked, rocking Viserra in her arms. 

Aemon looked to his wife. "Maybe ours will be that content."

Helaena scoffed. "If they are anything like their father, then you will find your hopes dashed, my love."

They chuckled.

Aegon felt happy with his family. It was so unlike the cruel, bleak life he'd had with his mother and grandsire.

But Rhaenyra was his mother. His real mother. She loved them, cared for them, listened to them.

And he was proud to be her son.

------------------------------------

Rhaenyra sat under the weirwood tree as her children chased each other around the yard. Harwin tossed Gaemon into the air, making the boy giggle.

Laenor leaned against the trunk of the tree, Viserra in his arms. "They look happy."

She smiled and took his hand. "Because they have an excellent father guiding them."

"And an even better mother."

He looked at his daughter. "Thank you, Rhaenyra."

She raised a brow. "For what?"

"For showing me how to be happy."

Rhaenyra leaned her head on this shoulder. "Thank you, Laenor."

Now it was his turn to look at her. "For what?"

"For giving me the confidence to be brave."

"Oh, Nyra. You were always brave."

Rhaenyra watched her children play.

"I wasn't. But now, they can be."

He couldn't argue with that.

Chapter Text

Hello all!

Sorry to disappoint, but this is not another chapter to the story. This is merely a question I’m hoping to get an opinion on.

I know this fic is done and finished, but I feel so connected to this story and these characters, that ending it feels…wrong

So, here is what I want to know?

Would you like a new fic, in the same premise as this, but with a few new twists and changes? Or should I leave this as is?